A Love Alphabet
by Ayra Sei Ethari
Summary: A young Padawan is captured and sold as a slave. But by the time Obi-Wan Kenobi rescues has, she is broken – or as close as she can get. Can he bring her back? And can he deal with the conflicting emotions she stirs within him?
1. Chapter 1

**_A Love Alphabet_**

_Summary:_ A young Padawan is captured and sold as a slave. But by the time Obi-Wan Kenobi rescues has, she is broken – or as close as she can get. Can he bring her back? And can he deal with the conflicting emotions she stirs within him?

_Rating:_ T for the violence now and the suggestive themes later

_Genre:_ angst (physical & emotional) ; hurt/comfort ; friendship ; romance ; just plain fluff

_Canon Character(s):_ Master Obi-Wan Kenobi (38)

_OC Character(s):_ Padawan Elanor (18)

_Set During:_ a few months after RotS

_Notes:_ This fic is dedicated to my best friend Crazytenor42. She wrote a fic just like this called Kenobi's Beloved Angel, so I am basing this design and story off of hers. It's called this because it is more an alphabet than a story about love, so . . . yeah.

And warning: the first four or so chapters are a bit depressing, so I'd advise readers not to linger on them to much. I make up for it in the progressively stronger fluff later and later on, though.

* * *

**_Chapter One: A_**

**A is for Ambushed**

Elanor feels a faint surge in the Force and looks around warily. As her eyes scan the dark alleys that are so common now that Tatooine's suns are setting, her hand falls to her lightsaber hilt. Now that the Jedi have been declared enemies of the Empire and are being hunted down, she is trying to be as careful as she can.

But sometimes, being careful as she can just isn't enough. Elanor has already run into quite a few clones and several bounty hunters, all of whom she barely got away from. It has taken all of her skill and drained her to the point of near exhaustion.

She is one of the survivors from Order 66, when Anakin Skywalker marched on the Temple with thousands of clone troopers and brutally slaughtered every Jedi who made the mistake of crossing his path. He stabbed her arm and choked her before leaving her for dead. He didn't that much of her because she was only an eighteen-year-old Padawan that he easily defeated.

But Elanor survived. Her arm hurts whenever she moves it and she is weak and exhausted, but she is alive.

And the only reason that keeps her going despite this pain is hope. Hope given to her by a rumor she heard one night almost three months ago. A rumor that tells her that she is not the only survivor of the massacre.

She is looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda, who are rumored to have survived and are rumored to have tried to destroy the Sith.

She hopes that the rumor is true. She hopes because she has met Obi-Wan Kenobi before, and she knows him to be a great Jedi with great power and wisdom and compassion. She hopes because she knows that he is probably her last chance to learn the Jedi way and fulfill her life-long dream of becoming a Jedi Knight, even though it will not mean much now that to be a Jedi is to be an outlaw on the run from the law.

And she hopes because she does not want to face the possibility that she is the last Jedi alive of the Jedi Order.

It is cowardly of her and unbecoming of a Jedi Knight, but she is not a Knight.

Not yet, anyways.

She has been looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi since then. She has followed where the Force has guided her, and although she doesn't know why he would choose this desolate desert they called Tatooine, she trusts in the Force and she trusts in the judgment of a Jedi Master.

Elanor is caught completely off guard when not one, not two, but six fully armed and armored bounty hunters drop from the alley walls to confront her. They have some of the most updated weapons, she notes, and they use flanking maneuvers to cover each other. They have obviously trained as hard and as well as they could in preparation for this.

That they are seemingly prepared for her startles Elanor, but she has no time to reflect upon it, for then all the bounty hunters open fire. She has no choice but to call her lightsaber to her hand and activate it, destroying her cover.

But it is either that or die.

Elanor is well-trained in arts of lightsaber combat, having mastered and then built her style to reflect the flowing elegance of Makashi, the calm defensiveness of Soresu, and the sheer power of Djem So. She has sparred countless times with her late Master and other apprentices her age, and she has held her own very well.

But it is not enough this time.

She is being ambushed, and there is no way she can get out.

The first shot to make it through her guard grazes her arm and makes her nearly drop her lightsaber. The second shot immediately after that causes blinding pain to ricochet through her legs before they go numb and she falls. The third shot sends her lightsaber hilt whirling off into the darkness.

After that, she does not remember anything except a burning pain that consumes her and flashes of light.

* * *

**A is for Assaulted**

Obi-Wan Kenobi pauses mid-step as the Force suddenly ripples with more power than he has ever felt since he came to Tatooine. But the ripple is not calm; on the contrary, it is full of pain and anguish and fear.

The raw power behind the ripple tells him that the person causing it is a Force-user, one who is very strong but only partially trained. He knows from experience that that combination can be almost more dangerous than anything else, and he is worried.

But there is something else to this ripple.

Obi-Wan's breath catches when he realizes what he has sensed – he has sensed another Jedi.

At first, elation fills him. At first, he is glad that another one of his Order is alive and has survived. At first, he is happy because he realizes that the survivor must be a Padawan, one who can be hidden and trained so that the Jedi ways will not be lost forever.

But then the happiness goes away as Obi-Wan realizes too that the Padawan, whoever he or she is, is in grave danger. There is a bounty posted on Tatooine for any and all Jedi that can be found, now that they are no longer protected by the might of the Jedi Order or the laws of the Republic. They will not be turned over to the Empire; they will instead be enslaved and be kept for the enjoyment of their captor.

Obi-Wan is not certain which fate is worse.

Reaching out to the Force, Obi-Wan makes his way swiftly through the town, following in the aftershocks of the first ripple. It takes all of his concentration, for he must not only sense the smallest tremble but must also be careful to hide his own presence in the Force.

He trusts in the Force, even though he has never been good at reading the Living Force, and so follows it to wherever the trail leads. He finally stops in a dark alley; this is where the disturbance happened. Tatooine's suns have mostly set by now, but when he reaches out to the Force, he can see pretty well.

To his horror, blood is the first thing he sees. Blood spattered on the walls and pooled on the sand, staining it an inky blood red. He prays that the blood did not belong to the Jedi, but he has no way of knowing.

The next thing he notes are the burns of blaster marks. They are all over the place – in the walls, in the sand. They tell Obi-Wan that the Padawan fought back, for every Jedi knows how to deflect blaster bolts. He begins to hope that the Padawan was able to get away.

The last thing he sees is a lightsaber hilt, half-hidden in the sand.

His faint hope crumbles at the sight. No Jedi willingly forfeits their lightsaber. It can only mean one thing – that the Padawan did not get away.

He walks slowly over to it. He has met many Jedi, and he knows that if he reaches out to the Force, he can get a sense of the Jedi's Force signature and will be able to track the Jedi through that. He might even recognize the lightsaber or the Force signature.

The moment he touches the lightsaber, his mind is assaulted. Images bombard his mind, some happy and most not. They center on a young, bubbly, energetic female Padawan, one who looks startling familiar. . .

He rises then, shaken to his core, squeezing the hilt so tightly with his hand that if he'd been holding the focusing crystal instead he would have shattered it into a thousand fragments. He knows that all the blood has drained from his face, and his mind is numb.

But that means nothing to him. He does not realize what he is doing. It is merely a reaction, a by-product, of what he has seen.

Because Obi-Wan Kenobi knows who this lightsaber hilt belongs to. Oh, yes, he definitely knows. He met this Padawan once, long ago during the Clone Wars, and she saved his life during the time that they were thrown together.

Now, he must save hers.

Elanor's.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, now that finals have begun (at least at my school), I came up with the idea of the final finale. (Yes, I do know that I'm not in the "finale" of A Love Alphabet but I needed a name.) So for each of the next 4-5 days of finals, I'm going to post a new chapter.

So, for Day 1 of my final finale, unfortunately we get another slightly sad chapter. . . My apologies.

* * *

**_Chapter Two: B_**

**B is for Breaking**

The bounty hunters sedated her heavily, pumping enough drugs in her system to knock a full-grown bantha out for a week. A fully trained Knight might be able to use the Force to overcome that and escape, but Elanor is not a Jedi Knight.

Not yet, anyways.

Then they put a powerful collar around her neck to control her. It disrupts her ability to use the Force, and, when they wish to be cruel or want some entertainment, causes her such agony that she collapses on the floor and screams and wishes that she was dead. A fully trained Knight might be able to use the Force to deactivate the collar and neutralize the drugs and to escape – but she is not a Jedi Knight.

Lastly, they sold her. A fully trained Knight might be able to use the Force to trick her captor, to deactivate the collar, to neutralize the drugs, and to escape with the aid of the Force – but she is not a Jedi Knight, and now, she starts doubting that she ever will be one.

Because now she is a slave, stripped of her name, stripped of her value, stripped of her humanity.

At first, she fights back and tries to escape. Elanor remembers the dignity of the position she held as a Jedi Padawan, she remembers her name and the pride she had in it, she remembers the equality with which she was regarded in the Order.

She refuses to stoop to every order and be subject to these humiliations. She is not a slave; she is a Jedi, and she will act like one even if she isn't a full one.

But after a while, she stops fighting back. With every fight, she is punished more severely than the last, deprived of food and water and human contact and light – and the Force. Alongside that, she is beaten severely, with whips and torture devices that test her limits to the very edge.

So she refuses quietly. She cannot afford to keep resisting out loud, but she feels she must do something, something small, at least, that will remind her – and them – who she is.

But after a month or so, she stops that too. Even when the refusal is quiet and the task small, the punishments are severe and carried out to the letter.

She knows that if she continues this, she will not survive for another week, much less long enough to escape.

Sometimes, though, when the mood strikes her, she wonders idly what would happen, what it would be like if she did die. How she would just float away and join the Force. How she could get away from all this pain and cruelty and darkness.

All she would have to do would be to close her eyes and will herself to die, to depart, to join the Force in the footsteps of many other Jedi who have died.

She knows that it can be done, even without the Force to aid her.

And that is what scares her.

How can she consider death? She may be a slave in name, but she is still a Jedi, one of the members of the most powerful and legendary Orders to ever exist. She still has a duty, to herself, to the Republic, and to the galaxy.

But sometimes, during moments where all she can do is lay there and pant and wince after a particularly long and cruel beating, she drifts in and out . . . and she can no long remember.

It scares her, but it is the truth.

It is during one of these times that she realizes that she just can't remember. She can't remember her Jedi training about calming the mind, about healing the body, about suppressing the pain. She can't remember the warm, beautiful, perfect days when she was a youngling, laughing and playing and learning under the gentle, affectionate guidance of her crèche instructor.

But worst of all . . . during those times, she can't even remember her own name.

And these times are becoming more and more frequent. They are creating gaps in her memory that are beyond her knowledge of when they happened or how long they were. She doesn't know when the last time was, and she doesn't know when the next time will be.

She knows what is happening, and she dreads it. To her, it is as close to a death sentence that she can bestow upon herself. To her, it tells her that her late Master wasted his time training her. To her, it symbolizes the ultimate failure a Jedi can suffer.

Elanor is breaking. Slowly but surely, she is breaking.

* * *

**B is for Beating**

Obi-Wan Kenobi's mind is taking a beating.

The beating is – in his opinion – even worse than any physical torture or any emotional turmoil that he has ever suffered. It haunts him at night and mocks him during the day. It takes all of his training and willpower to keep going.

Elanor has been given some kind of Force-suppressant, and she is suffering.

Thus her shields have slipped. Many nights now, her pain will seep into his dreams and he will often awake wincing from a wound he doesn't have or groaning from a headache that only exists in his mind. He does not know what her captors are doing to Elanor, but he knows that she is gravely wounded.

Because the very small portion of clear sensations he is sensing from Elanor seem to mainly focus around pain.

That is why nowadays, when he isn't watching over Luke Skywalker and the Lars farm, he is out scouting, using the Force and anything else to try and track her down.

The phantom pains that he receives from Elanor drive him to this. He doesn't know what is going on, but her pain wounds him greater than anything else.

She is just an apprentice – just a girl, really. But the torturous pains that are creeping into him are a thousand times beyond what even he thinks he would be able to take. He doesn't know why or how she is able to hold on.

He needs to find her, and soon.

He knows that her control is slipping. He knows that her agony is sometimes beyond her. He knows that sometimes she feels like she is dying. He knows that if, one day, things go too far, Elanor will will herself to die.

He doesn't think that Elanor knows she is projecting.

And that is what scares him all the more. If she doesn't know that she is projecting, it tells him two things.

Firstly, that she is not herself when this happens. She is going through the torture, through the pain, right then and there, or lying on the floor trying to recover right afterwards. But without the Force, her recovery is most likely slow and painful, and she is not at the level where she would be able to overcome that yet.

She is a mere apprentice. Just eighteen, if his memory serves him correctly.

It also tells him that she is not lying or deceiving him; on the contrary, she is fighting to shield her pain. That tells him that most likely he isn't getting half the pain, because whenever she is lucid or conscious, his rapport with her vanishes immediately.

Obi-Wan knows all of this, and he fears for Elanor.

He also knows that he must find Elanor, and soon . . . otherwise . . . well, he has seen too many other Jedi who were not rescued in time from things like this.

Obi-Wan's mind is taking a beating, and he vows to rescue Elanor soon, no matter what the cost. He would rather live a lifetime with this mental pain than to stand another second of knowing that she is suffering it for real.

Otherwise, if she dies, he knows that he will blame himself for her death for as long as he lives, because he had a chance to save her.

However short his life is, of course.


	3. Chapter 3

Day 2 of my final finale, unfortunately we get another sad chapter. . . My apologies.

* * *

**_Chapter Three: C_**

**C is for Ceaseless**

The torment is ceaseless now.

The master – she refuses to equate him with the Jedi who trained her, but she has never told him that and if she calls him anything other than that title, she is automatically given yet another beating – is entertaining some new guests.

They are always drunk, very rude, badly dressed, and, as far as she can tell, filthy rich. The worst combination of qualities, in her opinion. They are the lowlifes of society, the scum of the social ladder, the despised and the worst creatures around.

These guests saw her one night, lurking in the background and glaring at the master. They were half drunk and their minds were far from clear, but one thing registered in them. And the next they demanded, as a favor, that they . . .

Well, she doesn't even really recall what they said.

But they have carried it out.

Elanor is only eighteen years old, but because she was sworn to the path of a Jedi Knight, she has never had time for anything outside that. She has dedicated her whole life to training as a Jedi, and sometimes her reflexes, instinct, and training were the only reasons she survived the wars.

But all of her training deserts that one, fateful night.

The night they seize her from her cell and drag her into their room. The night they cause her agony beyond anything she has ever felt. The night they tear her innocence from her in the most brutal way that can be done.

And she cannot fight back. She has no strength to, no will to. She has nothing against them that might protect her.

Not even her status as a former Jedi is enough.

She is sure that they know that she was a Jedi. She is sure that is why they are so harsh on her, and why they delight in violating her every single night, overpowering her with sheer strength and numbers.

It is ceaseless, endless, ongoing.

During the day, she is beaten and tortured by her master, who is determined to break her completely. As a Jedi, Elanor knows that her master relishes the challenge of breaking one. So she suffers more than she ever thought she could ever possibly endure.

And during the night, the men take their pleasure from her and they violate her. It causes Elanor as much emotional pain as it does physical pain, enduring what they do to her and not being able to strike back or push them away

The torment is destroying her. Before, she had respites, times where she could catch her breath and think things over and calm down. Now – Now there is none of that.

She moves from one thing to another – from the tasks where she is beaten, to the cell where she is tortured, to the room where she is violated. The suns rise and the moon sets and then the suns set and the moon rises, but the passage of time no longer really means anything to her except that during one time she must turn on the light and during one time she can do without it.

She feels like she is running a marathon that never ends, that drains her of anything – her energy, her emotions, everything – and that makes her a soul living in an automaton that she no longer remembers how to control.

No, not a marathon.

A gauntlet.

A gauntlet of death.

And it is merciless.

Her clothes are in rags now, only held together by mere threads that she prays will not break. Her hair is a mess, and she knows, and she cannot do anything about it. Her boots have long since been worn down. She is dirty and exhausted and violated – and she can't do anything about it.

Elanor's torment is ceaseless.

* * *

**C is for Cycle**

Obi-Wan's life is becoming a cycle that never ends, and even his legendary patience is beginning to desert him. It is unbecoming of a Jedi Master and a general, but he no longer really cares about that anymore.

Elanor's shields have collapsed completely, and one night, for the first time, the pain was so bad that he woke up from a sound sleep screaming and writhing, trying to push away imaginary torture devices and trying to soothe phantom wounds.

The screams were entreating, pleading, begging, and what they begged for scared Obi-Wan more than anything else.

Because Elanor was pleading for someone to kill her.

Obi-Wan barely sleeps now. He can't. Nightmares won't let him, for one thing, and they drive him to spend every waking moment trying to do everything he can to find Elanor.

So when he awakes, if he's managed to sleep at all, he is still half-asleep and full of phantom pain. And then the cycle of what Obi-Wan's life has become begins again.

He spends the morning shadowing Beru as she goes about her chores, Luke strapped securely to her back. She is perfectly capable of doing the chores, but he wants to make sure that nothing happens to her, or to the child. He remembers vividly the look on Anakin's face when the boy told him about his mother's death at the hands of Tusken Raiders, and he is determined to make sure that it doesn't happen again.

He spends the afternoon reaching out to the Force, trying to find some sort of trace that Elanor might have left behind. It doesn't relieve the pain that he feels from his rapport with her, but when immersed in the Force he feels like he is actually doing something and so his conscience feels a bit lighter.

He spends the rest of the day well into the night searching on foot for Elanor. He keeps her lightsaber by him all the time as a foundation upon which to base his searches in the Force.

He also keeps it as a reminder of why he is doing what he is doing, which to most people would seem useless.

But he will not give up on it, no matter how hopeless it seems on the outside. For one thing, she is a fellow surviving member of the Order, and as a Jedi Master he feels obligated to protect her. And for another – well, she saved his life once when he was in one of his most desperate times. It only seems proper that he save hers now that she has fallen into that same situation of desperation.

As pain ripples through him and a flash of irritation spikes through him, he is forced to remind himself that Elanor is not herself when this happens. Without the Force, without her lightsaber, alone, under pressure and pain and torture, she is not herself.

Obi-Wan is growing impatient now. Elanor's pains plague him constantly, and he wants to find her before things go too far. He grows fearful whenever his rapport with her vanishes, although now that the abuse she is subjected to seems to have been ramped up the next four levels, that rarely happens.

He is grateful and scared because of this.

He is grateful because it tells him that she is still alive and that he still has a chance to find her, to save her.

But he is scared because it means she is in pain and she is suffering and she has _not_ been saved yet.

Obi-Wan's life is becoming a cycle that he wants to break.


	4. Chapter 4

Day 3 of my final finale, unfortunately we get another slightly sad chapter. . . My apologies. But this is the last of the depressing chapters!

* * *

**_Chapter Four: D_**

**D is for Drowning**

Elanor is drowning.

She is drowning under the never-ending pull of a current that she can no longer keep up with. She is drowning in an enormous sea of torture and pain and cruelty. She is drowning in a cold void that is empty and silent and impassive.

Those blanks that used to possess her and make her unable to remember anything? Now they are full her memory with empty blanks. When she falls to the floor at night, blank spaces is all she can remember, if she even bothers to try.

Once, when she was a youngling, she read about things called automatons. Things that were alive yet moved automatically at their master's bidding. As Jedi value life, she scorned them and thought them horrible beyond belief.

Now . . . Now she is one.

She has locked herself into a dark, deep, small recess in the back of her mind, along with the things that made up the core part of her soul. All of her most cherished memories go there, locked away so deep that sometimes even she cannot find them. Her abilities – to sense, to feel, to touch the Force – they go there too. Everything that she once carried proudly is now locked away.

All that is left is an empty, broken soul inhabiting a barely functioning and beaten husk of a body.

She knows that she looks terrible. Her hair is mangled beyond belief or saving; most likely, soon her captors will just slice it clean from her shoulders. They long ago ripped away the Padawan braid, and she fought them . . . or she thinks she does. She can't really remember anymore.

And her body – her body is covered in scars, some as fresh as three hours ago and some as old as . . . as old as . . . well, however long she's been there. Whatever skin that isn't scared is severely bruised or freely bleeding.

She is like an automaton. Sometimes she doesn't even hear the order called, but then her body is responding, and she follows it anyway. She moves automatically to do what must be done.

Her arm is still badly hurt, but all it is to her is a weakness. They need only grip it lightly and she will scream as agony floods her, as if Skywalker was standing right there twisting his lightsaber into her arm again.

A few of her ribs are broken too. Once, she might have been able to heal them in a healing trance as her Master taught.

Now . . . Now she can't.

And sometimes she grows so weak from a lack of food and lots of beatings that she can't even follow the orders, and that only earns more isolation and torture. She doesn't even remember what the devices are called or do anymore; all she knows is that they cause unbearable pain and when she tries to wriggle away, the pain intensifies beyond words.

Her mind is not her own anymore either. If she speaks – if she remembers how – her voice is flat and quiet, and her words are automatic, mechanical, reflexive. She doesn't remember how to joke or tease, much less to smile or laugh.

And she no longer remembers how to truly use the Force. Due to the collar, whenever she tries to reach for it, sparks of pain crackle into her being.

The Force used to give her a small amount of comfort, giving her dreams of someone – she didn't know who and still doesn't know – who wanders around. She saw how he held her lightsaber in a familiar way, and she used to believe – foolishly, she knows – that he was a Jedi.

But because of the collar around her neck, she doesn't dare reach out to the Force anymore. The Force is simply a cold, impassive, empty void inside of her that she can no longer touch. And she doesn't want to. Her life is dark enough now without sensing the – what were they called?

She can't even remember that now.

Elanor is drowning, and nobody cares anymore.

* * *

**D is for Desperate**

Obi-Wan is becoming desperate.

He has never felt this way before. Patience and the Force and his experience as a Jedi Master have always prevailed before. Always he managed to resolve the situation, no matter how strange or hopeless or delicate it seemed.

But this situation seems beyond him.

It has been well over a month – perhaps even longer – since he found Elanor's lightsaber abandoned in the sand. He has searched and searched for her relentlessly since then, but his searches have turned up nothing.

He doesn't understand what happened. Elanor seems to have just vanished into thin air.

Then again, it doesn't help that he isn't familiar enough with Tatooine to determine more than the fact that most likely she has not left the planet. It also doesn't help that he doesn't know who took her; whoever did left no traces that he can find.

He is going out of his mind with worry for Elanor. He worries about where she is, what is happening to her, and everything else. He worries that she might be hurt beyond salvation, in which case he will have no choice but to grant her a merciful, painless slip into the Force.

But most of all, he worries that she might _not_ go that far. That her captors might deliberately make sure that she can be salvaged. That she will be right at the gray line between life and death, so close that a single shuffle will send her plummeting.

He has tried every method he knows of tracking her Force-signature, which he now knows as well – or perhaps even better – than he knows his own. But her Force-signature is gone from the Force, as if she has become a void . . . or no longer exists.

He refuses to believe that. She _must_ be alive.

He doesn't wish this because he doesn't want his searches to be all for naught. He doesn't wish this because she is a fellow Jedi. He doesn't even wish this because he doesn't want to know that he and Yoda are the only surviving Jedi.

He wishes this because Elanor captured his interest once, and he wants to see if she has changed.

No doubt she has.

But he wants to test himself as well. He wants to know if he still feels that same tug towards her that he felt the first time he saw her. He wants to know if he still feels that strange sensation in the Force that he felt the first time he touched her hand. He wants to know if he still feels that overwhelming feeling in his soul that he started feeling the more she worked with him.

He doesn't know what this feeling is, but right now he has more important things on his mind that discovering what it is or even determining if it is dangerous.

Right now, all he wants is to find Elanor, to rescue her from her tormenting captors, to know that she is safe.

And so he searches. And searches. And searches.

Constantly.

He doesn't have time to himself anymore. All he has is split between Luke and Elanor.

He knows which duty is more important, but he can't stop himself from spending a great deal of time dwelling on Elanor, on finding her.

Finally, Obi-Wan becomes desperate enough to decide to go to town and use the Force to get the answers he wants.


	5. Chapter 5

Day 4 of my final finale! Today in this chapter, things finally start looking up for Elanor and Obi-Wan. . . We are done with the depressing chapters, thank the Force!

* * *

**_Chapter Five: E_**

**E is for Echoes**

All Elanor can hear now are echoes.

She doesn't really know what has happened that led to observation. All she vaguely remembers is being summoned to the master's room, where the master was arguing hotly with a man in a dark hooded cloak.

At first, she thought that the master was arranging a price.

Then she realized that the master was – but not a price for servicing, as he calls it while he paws the credits her gets, but for sale. She is scared of being sold to another man, but she cannot stop it and so she reserves her energy. It seems pointless to fret over this.

Just a few seconds later – or so it seems to her, but her observation of time has never been on track for a long time now – she is being led out of this wretched place by the man in the dark hooded cloak.

He does not speak or make any gestures to her, and something inside of her tells her not to mess with him, because she knows, somehow, that he is far stronger than her and could easily cause her just as much pain as the others.

Besides, she saw the master give the man the controls for her collar. She knows that all it will take is a single button pressed and she will be on the ground screaming and writhing.

The brilliance of the sunlight makes her squint. Once she might have cared, for it tells her that she has spent far too long in the dark dungeons, but she is more concerned about trying not to get her eyes burned out of her head. She desperately wants to put her hands above her eyes to shield them, but she isn't sure if the man will permit it. That kind of movement might be seen as a feeble attempt at a strike and be punished as such.

Just when she thinks that she can no longer handle the glare of the twin suns that are coming very close to blinding her eyes, her body finally gives out. She stumbles and falls down a sand dune before collapsing in the sand. There, for the first time in the sun for so long, she lays, unable and unwilling to get up.

She closes her eyes and wishes to die.

Suddenly, silently, the man appears at her side. He kneels down and bends over her, casting a cool shadow across her. As he does so, the dark hood that conceals his face falls back, but she is not paying attention to that.

Out of habit, she recoils from him – or tries to, anyway. She knows that it will only get her a worse beating, but she can't help herself. She has been through so much pain, and her body doesn't want any more.

He stops her easily with a firm hand on her arm, but as his fingers close over that spot, she screams involuntarily.

To her surprise, he drops her arm immediately, as if he doesn't want to cause her pain.

That confuses her. She has forgotten what it was like to be in contact with another person and not feel pain. She cannot imagine anything but pain coming from a touch.

He tries to say something to her, but her ears aren't working. Or maybe they are, and her brain isn't. Or maybe she's finally dying.

The words he speaks are strangely soft against her ear as compared to the harsh, grating yells the master used. His touch is just as gentle as his fingers sweep across her hair, brushing it away from her face with something close to . . . well, something. She doesn't remember, but she doesn't have the strength to pull away anymore.

He says something else, something that she can't understand.

Now even her eyes are no longer working properly. She knows she is outside, but things are strangely shadowed . . . and the man is strange too. His face is strangely hazy, as though someone has put a misted glass between him and her. Something about him strikes a cord in her, but she can't think of it.

He leans forward again, and she tenses – or tries to.

But then darkness takes her, and all she remembers are echoes of a voice she thinks she should know.

* * *

**E is for Eclipsed**

Obi-Wan carries Elanor into the hut that has become his home on Tatooine and lays her gently down on the bed. His relief at her rescue is eclipsed by greater, darker feelings.

Amazement, for one. He looks at Elanor and sees the many wounds that cover her. He is certain that there is almost no part of her that was spared, except perhaps her face, which is pale and has dark circles from a lack of sleep and food and sun. He is amazed that she survived, if the wounds on her back and on her arm are any indication.

Then self-reproach settles in. He looks at Elanor's wounds again and feels like hitting himself. He knows that was not much more he could have done, but it is his personality to feel like he should have been able to do more. He is not sure quite what that "more" entails, but he feels like he should have done more.

At last, the darkest feeling: anger. He feels angry when he looks at this beautiful, innocent young girl and sees the scars of torture that her captors have inflicted on her. She has done absolutely _nothing_ to deserve this. _Nothing_.

Rage fills him and he has to work hard to filter it out and calm himself. He has to remind himself that should Elanor wake up, his anger might do her more harm than good, as she might misinterpret it.

He recalls with sadness how light she was. She is frightfully thin, so much so that were she still at the Jedi Temple, the healers would have strapped her to a bed and refused to let her rise until she gained some much needed pounds. He knows because he knows that his arms should be aching from carrying her so far a distance, even with the Force.

But his arms aren't even tired.

And he _did not _use the Force.

This means that she is suffering from such a large lack of food and water that she could basically die of starvation right here. He vows to make sure that she lives.

Unable to resist the temptation, he leans over and lets his fingers brush through her hair. The second his fingertip touches her skin, a strange jolt travels through his body.

He sighs. The strange feeling is still there, then.

But he has other, more pressing concerns right now. The jolt reminds him of how when he knelt by her side, her only instinctive reaction was to draw away. He remembers the jolt of pure, unrestrained fear that rippled through her at the same time, as well as how her eyes were glazed with pain and fatigue.

He knows that she fears him, and he fears for what might have caused that fear. He knows that the fear is not born of him being a Jedi Master or just the fear of a random stranger; it is the fear of all men in general.

He sighs deeply and moves away, shifting his thoughts onto something more productive.

And the first thing he does is to use the Force to permanently deactivate the collar around her neck, making sure that it will not malfunction when he uses the Force to trigger the release so that it pops open. He removes it from her at once, disgusted by it and the fact that her captors would sink so low as to deprive her of the only thing that makes life livable for a Jedi, and throws it and the controls for it away, determined to destroy them as soon as possible.

Obi-Wan's joy at having Elanor by his side again is eclipsed by his anger at her captors for what they did to cause her to end up being by his side in this state.


	6. Chapter 6

Day 5 and thus the final day of my final finale! Obi-Wan Kenobi has found Elanor; now, all it will take is time to heal. . .

* * *

**_Chapter Six: F_**

**F is for Fantasy**

Elanor is living in a fantasy.

Or so she thinks.

She awakens to find herself tucked into a large and very soft bed.

Or at least she thinks it is soft. Since she has grown used to sleeping on dungeon floors, her perception on such things is a little bit off.

She then realizes that she is wearing new clothes. They are a little bit big for her, but they feel nice against her bruised skin.

She has also been cared for. Her hair is washed and brushed, and for the first time in so long she can run her fingers through it and not find a tangle. She notes with surprise that her vague memory is right; she does have gold-brown hair. Before, under all the muck and dirt, she couldn't tell.

And her wounds are treated. Bacta has been applied to most her more serious wounds, for she turns slightly and for the first time pain does not twinge through her back. Her bruises and scratches are healed completely.

To complete this, a strange scent permeates this whole place. It lingers in the tunic and pants she wears, the sheets of the bed – everything. She knows that it is a masculine scent, but for some reason it does not scare her.

Actually, it makes her feel safe.

Then she hears a sound, and suddenly the man enters in a swirl of brown and cream robes and the pat of boots. She cringes away instinctively, and as if knowing she is uncomfortable, he stops at the door, splaying his empty hands as if to assure her that he means her no harm.

He is well-built, as she noticed when they first met, and has broad shoulders and a muscular chest. He has chestnut brown hair and a chestnut brown beard that frame powerful blue-green eyes that lock onto hers with an intensity that sends an electric shock coursing through her.

After that, she doesn't need to see the lightsaber hanging at his hip or the robes he wears that she vaguely remembers as that of a Jedi. She knows who he is, because she remembers only one person whose eyes could send that shock through her.

It is Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man she was searching for before she was captured.

She starts to relax. She doesn't remember exactly why she feels like this, but for some reason something deep inside of her, something she faintly remembers, whispers that she can trust him, that he would rather cut off his arm that deliberately caused her pain.

His voice is soft and gentle when he speaks, and his tone is full of emotions she hasn't heard for so long. Compassion. Concern. Little things like that, but they mean so much to her.

She closes her eyes and is tempted to pinch herself. It seems so real and yet so unbelievable that for half a heartbeat she thinks that she must have died and joined the Force.

But when she opens her eyes again, Master Kenobi is still there, his face still full of concern for her, his eyes still pleading with her to understand that he will never ever hurt her.

His eyes. When she sees the emotions swirling in his eyes, she starts to believe. She starts to believe because although Master Kenobi is a famous diplomat and a powerful Jedi who can assume a politician's mask without blinking, she has always been able to read the emotions in his eyes.

They are beautiful swirling depths of the most perfect combination of deep sapphire blue and brilliant emerald green. And they are full of emotions and completely soulful, as if they really are the windows to his soul, to his very being.

She has never seen any eyes that come close to Master Kenobi's, and inwardly she doubts that she ever will.

She breathes out slowly, and as she does, she feels her body start relaxing. And not the slow, relieved movements after the danger has passed. No, this relaxing is more profound, as if her heart and mind and soul are finally unwinding now.

For a moment she puzzles over it, for she has never felt this way since she was captured, but then she realizes what has happened.

The Force has returned to her.

Her hands fly to her neck where that loathsome collar used to be – but it is no longer there. It is gone, broken, cast away.

She looks at Master Kenobi, and he smiles slightly, as if he knows what she was thinking just then. She knows then that he was the one to remove it, and from the emotions flickering in his eyes, she guesses that he did it as soon as he could, for she knows of his disgust for Force-suppressants.

She closes her eyes again, hugging herself.

Elanor is living in a fantasy right now, and although she doesn't know yet whether it is real or not, she does not wish to come out.

* * *

**F is for Fragile**

Elanor is fragile.

Obi-Wan can see it in every flicker of her eyes, every shadow that crosses her face, every tremble that move through her slender figure. She is fragile both physically and mentally, and it pains him greatly.

Physically, she is still very weak from her ordeal. He has put her in several healing trances, but her wounds are severe and there are many of them. And she has been weakened more still by her receiving a very small amount of food and water during her captivity – barely enough to keep her alive. It will take a while before she will recover the strength and power that she once had.

Mentally, her mind is fragile too. He does not know the true extent of what her captors did to her, but he knows that they used a great deal of violence to push her this far. While placing her in the healing trances, he has probed the edges of her mind, and he knows how weak and open it is.

But it is her fear that concerns him the most.

Even now, when he uncrosses his arms, she trembles, as if she expects him to storm across the room and backhand her. He is careful to move slowly and visibly around her, but sometimes it is not enough. Sometimes even his mere proximity to her makes her flinch away.

Like now. He takes a few steps and extends his hand to give her back her lightsaber. She shies away from him at first, and he waits patiently, as if trying to tame an animal. Finally, she slowly reaches out to take the lightsaber back.

When she has, he notices how her eyes dart back and forth, wanting to focus on her lightsaber but not trusting him enough to take her eyes off of him completely.

With a sigh that he locks inside of him, he takes the decision from her and backs up to give her room.

She relaxes visibly, and pain twists his heart.

He remembers her as being lively and energetic and rather cheeky sometimes. He remembers how her green eyes lit up with an inner brilliance when she was happy, and how they dulled to a faded green when she was disappointed. He remembers how skilled she was with the blade for her age, and how well she did when she sparred with Anakin.

Now she is none of these.

Now she fears his every movement.

Pain twists his heart again, and anger flares. What possessed her captors to injure her so much? To break this beautiful young child and instill fear in her heart? To take away the Force from her and torture her to the extremes?

He calms himself with difficulty when he realizes his clenched fingers are digging almost painfully into his palms. Anger will get him nowhere. Now, his focus must be on the present and on the future – not on the past.

When he returns his attention to the present, he is shocked to see tears are slipping down Elanor's face, crystal droplets that sparkle in the sun as they fall. Her lightsaber has fallen from her small hand onto the floor, and suddenly she looks vulnerable, like a child.

Unable to stop himself, he sits on the bed and reaches out to wipe away her tears. He sees how part of her tries to get away while the other wants the comfort, and her internal struggle begins. Eventually, to his joy, the part wanting the comfort denied to her since – oh, since the wars began, practically – wins out, and she tentatively leans into his hand.

In a voice even softer than his, she whispers the reason for her tears – she can't hold her lightsaber. She's too weak.

He sees the fear in her eyes. She fears that he will repulsed by her and her weakness. She fears that he will think her not worth his effort or time. And her greatest fear is there too – that he will use her weakness to take advantage of her as the others did.

He takes her hands gently and reassures her that he will never think of her that way. She has been through an ordeal that has drained her of almost everything she had.

As she looks down, shy in his presence and unused to the contact, he notices how her hands fit within his . . . and how delicate they seem. He searches her face and sees the same delicacy and vulnerability there as well.

Elanor is fragile, and it will take a long, hard road of recovery before she has healed.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter Seven: G_**

**G is for ****Grateful**

Elanor is so very grateful to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

She is grateful for many reasons. How he searched long and hard for her when he sensed her capture. How he went after her and bought her freedom when he finally found her. How he cared for her and treated her wounds.

But what touches her most is how sensitive he is to her needs. He always makes sure that she knows when he has entered the same room as her. He moves slowly and deliberately around her, careful to keep his hands in sight and to keep a careful distance from her. He is patient with her despite the fear that still blooms within her sometimes, and when she struggles he is always there to help. He never raises his voice or uses sarcasm or anything negative; his voice is always soft and tender when he speaks to her, and he only says encouraging things or asks concerned questions.

She knows that he didn't need to do all of this for her. His survival is more important than her own; a surviving Jedi Master to train the next generation is far better than a half-trained, broken Jedi apprentice.

But she also knows that to not do this would be to go against his personality. Her memories have started to come back as the blanks in her day have started fading, and she remembers his personality from when they last met during the Clone Wars – warm, full of gentle humor, exasperation towards Anakin, and many other things that makes her feel comfortable around him.

And she remembers what characterized Master Kenobi most – his devotion to his duty. She knows that he was considered one of the examples of the ultimate Jedi. And now she knows why he was considered that.

He is kind to her. He was modest about his accomplishments. He is always centered in the Force – as far as she can tell, anyway. He treats her like an equal, and cares for her without reservation or hesitation.

And yet, for all of his knowledge and wisdom and power, she can also tell that he is completely unaware of the effect he had on the Jedi Order – and now, on her.

At first, she was startled when he seemed to comfort her by reaching out and touching her hair or taking her hands or squeezing her shoulder gently. Her late Master did not do things like that, and her aversion to touch makes the gentle contacts feel even more alien.

But after a while she relaxes. She knows that he has grown used to caring for her now, and she saw the comradeship between him and Jedi Skywalker. She knows that it is his habit to reach out and offer physical comfort. It is his way of saying that he understands her struggle, and will respectively keep his distance, but will also be there if she needs him.

And even more so now, because she is still scared to use the Force.

Master Kenobi does not press her for this. He also doesn't bring up her reluctance to use or lightsaber, or ask her about what happened.

He simply acts normally and gracefully around her. He doesn't treat her like glass, but she knows that he is there, watching and waiting to step forward and offer her help if she needs it. He lets her speak on her own terms, and is understanding and non-judgmental. Around him, she is not afraid to ask him a question or voice an opinion.

Because every time he will turn around and give that same gentle smile and give her his full attention to answer her question or explain why or what.

Elanor is grateful to Obi-Wan Kenobi for so many reasons, and yet she has no idea how to tell him that.

**

* * *

**

**G is for General**

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Senior General in the Grand Army of the Republic.

He has seen the worst and the best of war. He has seen hopeless bloodshed and joyous miracles. He has experienced and suffered and undergone the extremes of torture – physically and emotionally and mentally.

But all of that, all of that experience and wisdom – it does not help him now.

It has seemingly completely drained away, leaving behind a raw recruit who must go off of instinct and reflex. Even the Force does not help him now.

Every time Elanor falters, it takes all of his self-control not to leap to her side and reassure her. He knows that she must heal in her own time, but that wisdom flees from him the instant he is caught in the moment, and he is forced to restrain himself.

Every time she winces in pain, it takes all of his self-control not to force her to sit down and rest. To recover her strength, pain comes along with it.

It is the only way.

But as always, it takes everything he has to hold this reflex back.

And every time she draws back from him, her eyes flickering in fear, his heart twists in pain. This he cannot stop, no matter what he tells himself. No wisdom helps him in this.

It is during those times that he wonders why the Force puts her through so much agony. He knows why he suffers – he has had many faults and failures throughout his life, and he knows that he is paying for them.

But she is young and innocent – there is nothing she could have possibly done to earn this.

It is taking all of Obi-Wan's trust in the Force to calm down that particular, nagging question. He is forced to tell himself that the Force has a plan for everyone, and he must trust in it.

Even if it pains him.

But even without the Force, he knows what she suffers from. She has been gravely injured, and even though her body is healing nicely, it is the damage to her soul that causes her to shy away from her, that causes the fear to rise in her eyes, that causes her to flinch from him sometimes.

He wishes he could help, but there is little he can do. Only time can heal her wounds now.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a general, but now of all times there is nothing he can do.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter Eight: H_**

**H is for ****Helpless**

Elanor is now helpless.

She didn't plan it to happen to her and she certainly doesn't like it now that it has, but she suffers from it nonetheless.

She was trying to stretch her muscles to attempt to start practicing some lightsaber techniques. She has already mastered the basic techniques she was attempting and she felt no pain when she tried the first couple of techniques.

It was when she moved on to the first kata of Makashi that she had difficulties.

When she tried, agony burst up her legs and she collapsed on the floor.

Or, at least, almost collapsed.

Because then Master Kenobi was suddenly there by her side – although she could have sworn he was nowhere near her when she started – and his arms caught her and slowed her descent to the floor.

She is startled and almost afraid of how quickly he sensed her distress and how swiftly he reached her, but she is also grateful that he is there for her. She leans against him as he kneels on the floor beside her. She knows that he will not hurt her and that he is concerned for her.

He touches her calf lightly, with the expert hands of a healer, and she hisses in pain, unconsciously gripping his other arm even tighter.

He tells her that she should rest.

She demands to know what is wrong.

A flash of . . . of something goes over his face. Something she doesn't quite comprehend. An emotion that she has never seen before.

But whatever it is, it is gone immediately.

He tells her that the strain she put on her legs muscles were too much and that she has pulled some of them – by mistake, yes, but all the same she has done so. So now she must rest while they heal before she tries again.

She doesn't want to believe him.

She doesn't want to be confined to a bed, to a room, to a hut.

She wants to go outside and see the sky, see the sun, see the stars.

So she stands – or tries to. The pain ripples through her legs once more, and she falls again into his arms as he catches her.

She stiffens immediately as her fall brings her back into contact with his chest while his arms support her waist. The position brings back unwanted, unsavory, and painful memories of what has happened to her, and she cannot help herself – or her reaction.

She cannot say if he realizes it or not.

But even if he does, it doesn't seem to bother him. He calmly lifts her in his arms, surprising her so much that her survival instinct overrides her fear of being so close to him and she clutches desperately at his tunic.

As he deposits her gently on the bed, he teases her, asking with a mischievous glint in his eyes if she doesn't trust him.

At that moment, her fear deserts her as her personality asserts control. She sticks her tongue out at him and then – mortified at the recollection that he is a Jedi Master – buries her face into the pillow, her face turning red with embarrassment.

She hears him laugh warmly at her reaction and moments later, his hand is stroking her hair gently, soothingly. Without thinking, she arches ever so slightly into his gentle hand as he caresses her hair and his fingers glide over her back. She has grown used to the feeling of his hand and the gentleness of his caresses, and they no longer bother her. They are the gentle contacts of a father to a daughter, and now she can't stop herself from responding to them.

His fingers stop suddenly, and he tells her that the muscles should heal in a few days, and that she will be all right.

She already knows this. Not because she has learned it from being a Jedi Padawan growing up during a war, but because she can sense that he is calm and not upset. She knows that were she in danger, he would be a lot more concerned for her.

She can't decide if that thought is troubling or assuring.

Troubling, because it tells Elanor that she is coming to rely on Master Kenobi a great deal and while Padawans do need their Masters, such reliance is not encouraged.

Reassuring, because it tells Elanor that she is starting to relearn how to trust others, and she can't think of a better person to place her trust in than him.

So perhaps being helpless isn't as debilitating as she thought.

Perhaps it's more about learning to accept her condition and to adapt and to rest. To learn how far to push the limits and when it is time to draw back. To learn to trust her instincts once again, which she is almost afraid to.

So as she lies, helpless, on the bed, she allows herself to drift off to sleep.

She is helpless now, but she knows that within a few days, she will recover.

* * *

**H is for Heartbroken**

Obi-Wan is heartbroken by the despairing expression that crosses Elanor's face when he tells her that she must rest – confined to the bed – in order for the muscles she pulled to heal.

The despair is fleeting, but he sees it all the same and it pains him.

He knows that she is restless, that she wants to get out, that she wants to move, somewhere, anywhere. She is tired of being confined in the hut, even though it has been for her own safety and healing that he imposed that rule. He doesn't want her to stumble afoul of any of Tatooine's more dangerous indigenous creatures, and he wants her to be fully healed before he decides to let her out.

But she is gaining strength and independence – and spirit.

She wants to be out.

Unfortunately, this latest incident will only mean she is confined for a longer time.

He doesn't really mind, though. It will give other wounds a chance to heal, and will make him worry less about her sneaking out. It may also teach her a lesson about pushing the limits too far and what happens as a result.

He notices the stiffening of her body when he catches her at once, but chooses not to comment. He knows it is merely a reaction of hers, and he hopes that one day she will trust him enough not to react that way around him.

But he is pleased when she makes a face at him when he teases her. It means that she is overcoming her fear of him – of men. It means she is gaining back some of her sunny, cheeky personality that caught his eye during the war.

And it means she has finally started on the path to healing.

But then she blushes and rolls over to bury her face in the pillow.

He laughs warmly, fully understanding her reaction and further pleased that she isn't cringing from him – she's just embarrassed. To test her, he gently lays his hand on her back and a full smile crosses his face when she doesn't shy away.

He strokes her hair and she leans ever so slightly into his hand. As he does, he turns over her expression in his head. He wonders why he felt so strongly for her when she despaired over being confined. He is amazed at how deeply she has sunk into him, how much he already cares for her even though she is but a child.

He feels her relax suddenly under his hand and he smiles as he realizes that she has dropped off into sleep. That she feels safe enough to relax completely and fall asleep so close to him touches and honors him.

With a sad smile, he tucks the blanket around her sleeping figure.

As Obi-Wan walks away, he is astonished that Elanor can inspire in him such a feeling as being heartbroken by simply seeing an expression on her face.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Chapter Nine: I_**

**I is for ****Ill**

Elanor is gravely ill.

Somehow, when she pulled the muscles, she triggered an infection that swept through her body overnight like rain drenches a desert. She woke up sick to her stomach, with a pounding headache and a raging fever – but thankfully she doesn't vomit.

Master Kenobi stays nearby now, due to this illness. His is the gentle hand against her forehead that seems to be the only thing that offers her relief from the heat of the fever. His is the soft voice that seems to be the only thing that doesn't trigger the migraines. His is the only face that seems to be the only thing that can cut through the haze that is supposed to be her vision.

But when he is not by her side, his hand on her forehead and his voice soothing her ears, she feels adrift, alone in a sea of hazed images and pain.

Memories randomly pop up in her mind's eye and she feels like she is living them again. Dreams that she used to fantasize about – building her lightsaber, being chosen as a Padawan, becoming a good pilot – also take over her mind. Ideas that she once had and tossed away return and she considers them yet again.

She feels like she is drifting in a sea of her own soul.

Only to rudely return to earth when pain ripples through her body and she coughs. She's not quite sure what the infection is – or if she's going to die from it – but it sure makes her miserable right now.

It is one of her more lucid moments.

Master Kenobi sits at her side and looks down at her, his expression tired and concerned. He reaches out and takes her hand, gently, as if she is made of glass . . . which she is not.

He shifts slightly, and she stiffens.

Because right now a memory has returned to her – how one of the men pretended to be nice to her only to lure her into an even more painful violation a few days later. And Master Kenobi is sitting next to her the exact same way he did.

Without thinking about it, she jerks her hand away from him. Then she rolls away from him and backs away into the corner of the bed, panting. Fear flares within her. Ill and injured, she doesn't stand a chance against him if he decides he does indeed want her.

He hasn't moved at all, she sees. He is still in the same position. Only confusion has come to his face and he tilts his head to examine her.

She trembles under his gaze, scared to the depths of her soul. She has known the pain of violation, and she desperately wishes to avoid it at all costs. Especially considering that he is a Jedi Master, and would be able to use the Force against her if she tried to run – which she is considering right now.

Then suddenly and swiftly, he reaches out and she flinches, cowering away from him . . . but he only touches her cheek.

The touch is brief but gentle, and it convinces her to slowly raise her eyes to meet his.

His blue-green eyes are swirling with concern and confusion; it is obvious that he doesn't quite understand yet doesn't want to rush her.

Actually, it is a gift at all that he has allowed his emotions to show so prominently past his Jedi mask . . . and she knows it is all because of her.

Because he cares for her.

Slowly, she scoots over the bed again until she is close to him. He slowly raises his hand to touch her shoulder, and although she flinches as first, she lets him. She can't help trembling slightly as his hand finds the Padawan braid buried in her hair, but he simply fingers it for a moment before letting it go.

As he retracts his hand, everything finally hits home – she is sick, and he cares for her not because he wants her, but because he really does care for her.

He starts to stand. Without thinking, she leans forward and buries her face in his tunic, clinging to him and not letting him go.

At first, he is startled; the slight stiffening of his body tells her that. But then he relaxes and his arms wrap around her, sheltering her. His embrace becomes a welcome, warm, secure place for her where she knows that nothing can hurt her because he won't let anything hurt her. She knows that as firmly as she hears the steady thumps of his heartbeat.

After a moment, he gently lets her go and pushes her to lie on the bed again.

Once, she might have been scared to see him leaning over her with her lying helpless and injured under his gaze. But that was once.

Now, things are different.

Now all he does is brush his fingers lightly over her forehead before pulling up the blankets. She closes her eyes as she senses the Force swirl around him, and moments later she feels suddenly sleepy and knows what he has done.

Being ill for Elanor is a strange feeling. Instead of feeling worse, now she feels better.

Well, emotionally and mentally anyways. Physically, she still feels like bantha fodder.

But that's what being ill does to Elanor.

* * *

**I is for Impulse**

Because of Elanor, today, Obi-Wan Kenobi was forced to act on impulse.

He sees how memories and dreams and ideas are returning to her, and how she is at the mercy of them. Sometimes, he is awoken by her screams and is forced to shake her out of the nightmares that hold her tightly in their grip, lest she hurt herself. Other times, he becomes part of her dreams and it takes time to persuade her that he is real and not something her imagination conjured up.

It troubles him, how quickly she is unwinding and becoming prey to whatever her unshielded and uncontrolled mind throws at her.

He tries to be there for her, to help her weather the storm, to help her stay afloat. But sometimes that backfires on him.

Like today.

When she backs away from him like a cornered animal desperate to escape but too scared to, he immediately knows that she is caught in yet another bad memory. He catches glimpses of it because she is broadcasting, but he really doesn't need to – he can see the fear swirling in her eyes.

Pure, uncontrolled, overwhelming fear.

Fear that has her skittering away from him as if he has just shouted at her and is ready to rip away everything she has regained.

Silently, he curses at her captors for whatever they have done.

Outwardly, he stills any motion and tilts his head to examine her. He allows his confusion and his concern to flood his face and eyes, washing away his Jedi mask and leaving his emotions wide open – something he hasn't done since everyone started dying. He does this because he knows that she tends to rely more on what she sees and senses about someone than what she hears or knows.

When she trembles under his gaze, sensing it yet not seeing it, he reaches out to touch her cheek.

She flinches, but when the touch makes contact, she seems to lean into it rather than shy away.

Finally, she looks up at him. He looks directly into her eyes, not speaking – he allows his emotions to speak for him. She trusts that more than she trusts anything words can convey.

Slowly, she returns to his side, quivering. He touches her shoulder lightly, running his fingers through her silky hair before turning his attention to her Padawan braid. Then he lets go, sensing that he has pushed her far enough for today – he doesn't wish to push her faster than she wishes to go.

Therefore, he is greatly surprised when she grabs his arm, halting his ascent from the bed, and buries her face into his chest.

At first, he is confused about what to do, how to react. Anakin certainly never acted this way – but Anakin never went through what Elanor did. He knows he never did this – but then again, he never went through what she did.

Besides, Elanor is different from Anakin – and from him.

After a second, he gives in to his instinct and gently wraps his arms around her, bringing her against his chest and resting his chin on her hair. She shivers slightly, but only reacts to his movements by nestling deeper into his embrace.

The position awakens something within him – something he can't quite put his finger on. It is something that he faintly remembers from a very long time ago, perhaps when he was still a young Padawan . . . before the dark times . . . before the Clone Wars . . . before the Empire.

In any case, he is not bothered by the fact that is has arisen. If anything, it has helped him right now, for as he urges Elanor to rest some more, he can see the relaxation in her expression, and he knows he did the right thing.

Obi-Wan Kenobi has finally learned the benefits of acting on impulse.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter Ten: J_**

**J is for Juggling**

Obi-Wan Kenobi never knew a little thing like juggling could open up a whole new world between him and Elanor.

It happened the morning he goes to wake up Elanor early so that they could do their regular practice session. They do it every morning now that she is fully healed – warm-up and then the running through of katas and then meditation for a cool down and then, finally, breakfast.

She woke the second his hand touched her shoulder, and at first she is confused; he has never woken her before. Usually he waits for her to join him outside.

But she does not ask any questions, and within a few minutes, she is ready.

When they are finally outside, after the warm-up, he draws his lightsaber and drops the surprise – he challenges her to a duel.

She is startled, and for a second, he can see how the instincts return and she nearly backs away. But then her Jedi mindset kicks in, and as he swirls his lightsaber through the opening salute, she responds by activating her own and sinking into a defensive opening stance.

He attacks first, throwing a blindingly fast array of quick stabs and lunges.

She parries madly, her blade flickering as she whirls out of reach. She deflects most of his jabs and avoids the rest, using her smaller and swifter form as her advantage to combat his experience and strength.

He gives her an approving nod as she skillfully avoids yet another lunge and flips over him, startling him with a new angle of attack. He allows her to use that as a way to go on the offense while he takes the defensive.

Her offense – while exemplary due to her employment of Makashi, which is hard for him to fight – is still not as good as her defense, and after a few minutes, he goes back on the offensive.

He increases the speed and power and unpredictably of his strikes, showing a hint of his true skills for a moment to test her.

She meets the challenge, but barely.

She misjudges the power behind one of his blows that she chooses to block directly and not parry or guide slanting away – a bad decision. She cannot match him for strength, which is the purpose of a block, and yet she tries.

The mistake costs her.

The blow forces her lightsaber down and disrupts her rhythm and concentration. It is only three blows later that he gets her completely off balance and his next blow send her lightsaber flying from her hand.

He deactivates his blade and gives her an approving smile. She is talented, and although she has flaws, so did they all. After all, he has a lot more experience than her. However, he makes a point to warn her about underestimating opponents.

She accepts the statement gracefully – or so he thinks.

It isn't until they are both back inside the hut and he is stretching out again that he realizes that he made the very same mistake he warned her against.

Because he turns just in time see a pillow flying straight for his face.

Instinctively, he reaches out with the Force and stops it centimeters from his nose. He glares around at her. She is pouting that she failed, while he wonders how he didn't sense it coming.

But he has no time to linger on those thoughts, because she chucks another pillow at him.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Pretty soon, he is juggling – with the Force – at least nine pillows. He juggles them because he needs to split his attention between ducking or stopping her throws and keeping the pillows levitated so she can't get them back and keep chucking them. So he tosses them up and sends them up and around instead of simply holding them.

Finally, she grows tired – or maybe she ran out of pillows.

In any case, she leaps towards him, whirling into a side kick that would sink into his ribs and distract him, making everything fall on his head.

Anticipating it, he reaches out, intercepts the kick, and swiftly turns it, adding just enough momentum so that instead of kicking him, the kick brushes across his torso as she turns suddenly due to his grip. As she falls, though, she surprises him yet again by scissoring his legs with hers so that he falls anyways.

He hits the floor, stunned, and only belatedly registers that she has fallen on top of him.

As he looks up into her face – her emerald eyes full of a mixture of surprise and mischievousness; her long gold-brown hair falling in a curtain around her face – he feels stunned as strange feeling suddenly flares within him.

Obi-Wan Kenobi never expected juggling might lead to something quite like this.

* * *

**J is for Juncture**

Elanor is at a juncture.

She did not expect Master Kenobi to start juggling the pillows. She also did not expect him to counter her kick – but at least she got revenge by making him fall as well.

There was only one drawback – she still fell.

On top of him.

His heart pounds wildly beneath her hands, and his blue-green eyes express a stunned emotion that seems so youthful that she is tempted to laugh. He seems, for a moment, her own age, as they recover, their legs tangled, their arms bracing the other away from them, their eyes locked in a mixture of surprise and something else she can't quite identify.

But then the moment is broken, and she rolls off of him.

Because he is not her own age, and because he is still a Jedi Master while she is only a Padawan.

She senses him sit up slowly, rubbing at his head. And then she hears him laugh.

She looks up sharply, startled by his reaction. His eyes are filled with mirth, and he teases her about failing to hit him with any of the pillows.

She looks around and realizes that he is saying the truth – despite the fact that he fell and he lost his concentration, none of the pillows hit him. Actually, they fell in a little circle around the both of them.

She makes a face at him, and he grins again, reaching out to tousle her hair affectionately.

For a second, she nearly tenses, remembering how her captors pulled at her hair during the months she spent with them.

But then she realizes, quite suddenly, that instead of shying away, she finds herself allowing his hand to slide through her hair. The touch is completely natural and innocent, and she relaxes.

He folds his legs beneath him in a meditative posture as he levitates some of the pillows back to where they belong. She crosses her arms, disappointed that she failed and pondering over her reaction to him.

And then she gets a new idea.

When he turns around to talk to her again, she seizes the last pillow and smacks him squarely in the chest with it. He fails to stop her in time, although he does grab her wrist and twists it, forcing her to drop the pillow. His counter jerks her off balance and she falls towards the ground – but he catches her, wrapping his arms securely around her frame and drawing her to his chest.

This time, she really does tense. She can't help it. Before, he was merely tousling her hair. Now, she is practically lying across his lap, her head against his chest, his arms wrapped around her.

But all he does is hold her.

Finally, after a long moment, she relaxes in his grip, trusting him completely. Her common sense finally wins out over the instincts beaten into her – she knows he will never hurt her, and especially not that way.

Elanor has reached a juncture concerning Obi-Wan Kenobi, and she has chosen her path – she trusts him now, completely and always.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter Eleven: K_**

**K is for ****Knack**

Elanor has a knack for reading emotions.

Even if the mind she looks at is confused, is deep, is shielded, she still always manages to reach out and see the emotions playing out in that mind. All she has to do is look into their eyes and reach out to the Force – and it is there. Right in front of her. Open for her.

This knack of hers often annoyed her late Master. It meant that she could always tell when he was hiding something or lying to her.

At first, she is afraid to read Master Kenobi's emotions, but after a while she just can't help herself. It just comes so naturally to her that it is as easy as breathing. And besides . . . she was curious as to how Master Kenobi felt about her – the reasons behind him caring for her.

To her surprise, his feelings are warm and protective – the feelings of a Master towards a Padawan. He cares for her because he feels that she deserves it, and that she needs it. He offers her help when she falters because it is his instinct, his reflex, his nature.

His emotions are painting a picture of Obi-Wan Kenobi that she never dreamed could exist below his cool facade, astounding achievements, and deadly skill.

It is a picture of a man. Not a Councilor; not a Senior General; not even a Jedi. Just a man.

A man with flaws and features; a man with boons and burdens; a man with calm and concern. A man who is not afraid to speak his mind nor form his own opinions, but also keeps quite a bit of his own opinions buried under the surface, where no one can tell. A man who is just as skilled with his blade as with his tongue, yet is humble and centered.

But, like any man, he has his doubts.

He doubts his own abilities, most of the time. He doubts what he has done, what he is doing, and what he will do. He reflects over his failures and his successes and ponders why they happened to him of all people. He wonders why he has been given so much – only to have it taken away from him in a single, painful swoop.

She does not tell any of this to him, though. She doesn't know how he will react, and she does not wish to annoy or alienate him.

Especially since she can sense that he is delighted by her company and feels honored that she trusts him while right under the surface he wonders bitterly if she too will desert, betray, or leave him one day.

She never utilizes her ability against him until the day he finally lies to her.

He tells her that he is going to get supplies, and will be back by the end of the day.

She knows he is lying. For one thing, his blue-green eyes are cool and impassive – _too_ cool and impassive. For another, he isn't looking at her straight in the face; in fact, he is facing away from her, his eyes fixed on the expansive desert. And she can sense it; his emotions are a mess of "should I tell the truth" – a dead giveaway.

Oh, yes, he will be gone for the whole day and, yes, he will return. And, yes, she will be safe when he is gone. That much, he isn't lying.

He's only lying about _why_ he is going.

She isn't really too concerned for her own safety. He is not going to betray her or anything. He really needs to do what he is going to do – or so he feels. But whatever it is, it is a secret and he's not sure whether he should burden her with it or not.

She comes around the table and hesitantly puts her hand on his shoulder, which is as tense as a bowstring beneath his tunic, and asks him calmly – more calmly than she thought she could – why he is lying to her.

He whirls around, amazement and confusion clear in his face. It is clear that he did not expect her to realize the truth.

She feels him probe her with the Force as his eyes search her face. She fights the impulse to push him out of her mind and flee from his gaze; that is the reaction of a beaten victim, not a Jedi Padawan.

He finally releases her from his gaze and steps away. He states aloud that he is impressed that she can read his emotions so clearly.

It is now her turn to start.

He turns and smiles wearily at her, asking her if she thought he wouldn't be able to tell.

She blushes and ducks her head. She thought she could hide it from him, thought he wouldn't be able to tell from just probing the edges of her mind.

He laughs warmly, moving back in front of her, and takes her shoulders gently. Her hands come up in an instinctive response, bracing against his chest to keep the distance between them from shrinking.

He tells her the truth then, his voice low and urgent. There is a child that he must watch over, by the order of Master Yoda. He has stayed by her side, but she is mostly healed now and he needs to resume his duty.

She nods slowly. He is not hiding anything from her now – save the name – and she knows that it is a show of his trust in her that he tells her this much anyways. And he is a Jedi who will always do his duty, so she can feel his conflict – he wants to make sure she's all right, but he also wants to do his duty.

She removes that choice and softly tells him she'll be all right.

He merely tightens his lips as his eyes darken.

She can tell that he is still worried about her. She narrows her eyes at him and teases him as he did to her, asking why he doesn't trust her.

That does it. His shoulders relax and he shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. Then he surprises her by pulling her against him in a strong yet gentle embrace.

She hesitantly rests her head against his shoulder, surprised at his movement yet secretly feeling . . . well, happy.

He murmurs in her ear to be careful and to be safe before pulling away. She can see the seriousness in his blue-green eyes, and she knows that he will be go crazy if he comes back to find her missing.

She nods, telling him she understands.

As he – reluctantly, she senses – lets her go and strides away, she reflects over that whole encounter in her mind.

Elanor has a knack for reading emotions, but she never thought she'd end up like this one day because of it.

* * *

**K is for Kindled**

Elanor has kindled something inside of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

As he walks towards the Lars farm, he can feel her eyes on him and he turns over in his mind how she has changed him.

Ever since she has come into his life, something has crept into his chest and heart and now lives there. He doesn't understand it and he certainly doesn't know how to get rid of it.

Whenever he sees her, it's like a burning fire, one that rages in his chest without stopping. He feels the urge to pull her in his arms and shelter her from everything, from anything – hurt, sadness, harm.

Whenever he sees her smile, which is a lot more often nowadays, the fire seems pleased and almost . . . sated. It urges him to wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her hair and a few other things he doesn't dare to think about.

And whenever he sees her flinching away from him or crying because of a nightmare, the fire is enraged. It is enraged at her captors, who beat her and abused her and violated her so that now sometimes she does flinch from him, so that now sometimes she gets nightmares. When the nightmares strike her, she often wakes up screaming that turns to panting and fear filled, quiet crying. He comforts her as best as he can, but more often than not, all she asks of him is to hold her.

It is a request that he grants to her easily.

Sometimes . . . Sometimes . . . Sometimes the fire tempts him to sleep beside her. To lie down beside her and hold her in his arms as she sleeps so that she doesn't wake up at all until morning, when she is rested. To kiss away her tears and soothe her worried mind with the Force.

At that thought, he kicks himself.

Hard.

He can never do that. He _will_ never do that.

For one thing, she is but a child. A child _twenty years_ his junior. He can never act that way around her and still call himself a man with honor.

For another, he is an old man. She is a beautiful young one who could easily find someone her own age, someone actually handsome and who deserves her.

And lastly, she is a Padawan. He is a Jedi Master. They are both Jedi. Such things would signal attachment – and he knows where attachment lead Anakin.

With a sigh, he looks over the Lars farm. He has a lot to think about right now, because Elanor has kindled something inside of him, and Obi-Wan doesn't know whether it is for good or for ill.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Chapter Twelve: L_**

**L is for Luck**

Elanor never used to believe in luck, but things have changed.

Now that she has fully recovered from her illness and her injuries, she has begun training again under Master Kenobi's watchful eye and careful teaching. He is a wonderful and great teacher, she has found; even some things that she never understood under her former Master are now starting to make sense.

She started with the lightsaber. Master Kenobi joins her every morning for the katas of Soresu and Ataru, and she has learned some new levels from him and has gained a new admiration for his skills, which are far and away the best she has seen in Soresu.

But she must do the katas of Makashi alone, because he has never learned them, much less practiced them. She is not arrogant enough to believe herself competent enough to teach him what she knows, but she knows that he is watching her every move and filing it away, scanning them for strengths and weaknesses.

They have not sparred again as of yet, but she knows that when he feels she is ready, he will suggest it.

She, on the other hand, hopes that day will not come for a while yet. She gets a great deal more pleasure from learning from him and watching him execute the moves with perfect timing and extraordinary grace than by the thought of testing her skills against him again – and most likely losing _again_.

He is also resuming her education, which was disrupted by the war and by her Master's death. He knows a lot – a great deal more than she thought – and he has plenty of datapads and other such things chock full of information for things he doesn't know personally. History, politics, science, mathematics, culture, and plenty of other things are what he teachers her – and languages, languages of so many different worlds that she feels like she will never remember half of what she learns.

And she is tentatively learning how to use the Force again.

At first, she was scared; in the dark past she vaguely remembers, to reach for the Force was to ask for pain. Master Kenobi assures her constantly that that is not the case, and she believes him and knows he is speaking the truth – but in the deep recesses of her mind, she is not so easily convinced.

However, despite that, she is amazed at how easily she and Master Kenobi get along, how smoothly he transfers into the role of teacher while she settles into the role of student.

Unlike her old Master, she can understand exactly what he means or what he is trying to say. Her relationship with her former Master was kind of bumpy, rocky, full of edges. He was a good teacher and she a good Padawan, but sometimes that just isn't enough.

They just didn't . . . click.

She is used to that. No one is perfect, and nothing is perfect. Sometimes Masters and Padawans just don't click. But at least she and her Master were effective enough.

Therefore, she is shy and unused to how things are when she engages in conversation or practice or lessons with Master Kenobi. He seems to understand her as well – or perhaps his experience makes him able to understand her better than she thought.

Whatever the case, she feels more comfortable with Master Kenobi than she ever has with a Master so far above her own rank.

When he smiles at her, his blue-green eyes twinkling and sparkling at her, she feels . . . pleased. Satisfied. Happy that she has made him smile.

When he frowns and the storm darkens and clouds over his eyes, she feels . . . not scared, but fearful. Fearful – not of him – but for him. But the storm always passes quickly, and soon enough he will breathe out whatever anger he has accumulated and is back to normal.

The feelings are strange, new to her. She never felt this way towards her old Master.

But she is grateful that he is such an effective teacher for her. She is grateful that they seem to share an unspoken connection that enables them to interact so easily. She is grateful that she feels normal around him.

Elanor never used to believe in luck.

Now, because of Master Kenobi, she believes that she has experienced luck – because luck could have been the only thing that had led her to be in his care, he of all people, of all Jedi.

* * *

**L is for Learning**

Obi-Wan Kenobi is thirty-nine-years old, but he is still learning.

The revelation hits him the day he is watching Elanor perform a new Ataru kata, one he had taught her only a few days ago. He watches her and corrects her when she errs and encourages her when she falters.

He watches as she throws her body through a series of aerial twists and spins, one of the middle phases of the kata, and quite suddenly, as the sunlight hits her body, he feels a surge of something.

Something he hasn't felt in years . . . but he also sort of recognizes it.

It is then he realizes that he hasn't felt this way since Siri died.

He is attracted to her. To Elanor. To a girl who is practically his Padawan in all but name.

Not just because of her beauty, but because of her character, her personality. She is strong, else she would not have survived what she underwent at the hands of her captors. She also has a mischievous personality enough to match his own, as demonstrated with their little pillow fight. And there is that hint of vulnerability around her, a hint that instantly arouses in him a protective nature that he has trouble pushing away.

He quickly shakes his head, trying to shake those thoughts out. They are not only distracting, but inappropriate. She is practically his apprentice, and although not a minor, she is still very young compared to him.

The fact that it took him so long to realize that he was attracted to her bothers him. Usually, he would have known right away and already begun releasing the unwanted feelings into the Force.

He also kind of doesn't understand why he feels this way. Yes, he admires and cares for her; yes, she evokes in him a protective nature; and yes, she gets along really well with him. But there is something . . . more to it. Something . . . instinctive, natural. Something hidden.

Otherwise, he feels he would have sensed it a lot more.

Another thought hits him. Could the Force be testing him? An attraction would be a powerful test, especially since she seems totally oblivious to the fact that he is attracted to her. It would test his resolve as well as his devotion to his duty – both to the Jedi and to the Force.

Her voice jolts him out of his thoughts, and he realizes quite suddenly that she is standing now, the kata finished, her hands on his hips and her head tilted as she looks at him. She raises an eyebrow as he flushes slightly, realizing a second later that she has been done for quite some time now.

But the moment passes, to his relief, without any questions.

She chooses instead to tease him about losing his focus.

Inwardly, he breathes a sigh of relief. He can't really lie to her – as she proved earlier – and he really doesn't want to tell her the truth.

He raises his eyebrow at her, reminding her of her own loss of focus during their sparring as they walk back to the hut.

She rolls her eyes, and retorts that at least she didn't space out for a few minutes where her throat could have easily been cut. She merely lost her rhythm and concentration momentarily.

He puts his arm around her shoulders. Then he tells her that her loss of concentration would have resulted in a split throat. He would have felt the danger in the Force and been able to react. She would not have been in a position to that.

She scowls and slips out beneath his arm, brushing his side as she heads to the shower, throwing up her hands and declaring that she's given up.

He remains where he is, staring after her.

It seems that no matter what she does, he feels that same surge of affection – even from something as simple as brushing by his side as she moves away.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Jedi Master and one who passed into adulthood long ago – but even he is still learning what it means to be a man.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Chapter Thirteen: M_**

**M is for Memories**

Elanor is surprised when Master Kenobi brings up the subject of her late Master, which of course leads to the sour, bitter, anguished memories of her Master's death.

It happens one night when they are standing next to the window. She leans out the window, looking at all the stars as he points out constellations and other planets. He tells her stories about his experiences on some of the planets during his missions – some interesting, some educational, and quite a few downright hilarious.

He, of course, pretends to be annoyed and lightly elbows her, but she can see the laughter in his eyes and knows he is teasing.

She leans against him, trusting him, and feels his arm come up to rest around her shoulders. Ever since she realized she trusted him completely, she is no longer shy when he tousles her hair or puts his hand on her shoulder and he, sensing that, is more relaxed in giving her them.

After a moment of quiet, he asks her quite suddenly about what happened to her Master.

She pulls away, startled. In all their time together as she has healed, he has never pressed her for anything, not even when she didn't use the Force for so long.

But then again, this particular subject is not just "anything".

He eyes her seriously and repeats the question, but in a softer tone of voice.

She looks down. She has avoided the topic in her mind for so long that she barely remembers now, and she doesn't want to bring it back up. It isn't Jedi-like of her, but still . . .

He leans forward and tilts her chin back up with gentle fingers, saying her name very softly. He searches her eyes for a moment before asking her yet again.

She is surprised at his persistence. Usually, when she made it clear she was uncomfortable, he dropped the subject immediately.

Perhaps he senses her surprise, for he tells her gently that he needs to know.

She shifts and asks if they could talk about this some other time – or perhaps not at all.

He shakes his head firmly, his hand lingering on her shoulder with her Padawan braid in its grip. He tells her that he must know – now.

She tries to protest.

He asks her why she doesn't want to speak.

She looks down again as tears starting forming. The raw pain of her Master's death wounded her deeply, and she doesn't want to go over it again, and it, quite frankly, scares her. She thinks that if she goes over it again, she might crack and shatter from the sorrow and the anguish.

He shakes his head again, telling her that she will not break, and that by not speaking she is only hurting herself more.

She knows – somewhere, deep down – that he is right, that he is telling the truth but she just . . . she just can't face it. Moving away, she tries to get away, but his hands close upon her forearms tightly, preventing her.

The dam breaks, and she finally bursts into tears and tells him. How she tried to help the children but could only watch helplessly, occupied with the clones, as they were cut down by overwhelming fire. How the man who led the clone troopers dueled her Master and then stabbed her Master's throat, resulting in a slow, painful death that drove her crazy with pain and anger that only worsened when her Master finally died and the bond shattered. How she dueled the man but failed and could only watch as he strode away and murdered more people.

He lets her go, his face full of shock. Her shields have failed completely, and she knows he can sense everything she felt – the raw rage, the terrible helplessness, the overwhelming anguish.

Everything.

She jerks herself away from him and spits out the question of why he made her do this. She demands to know why he wants to cause her pain.

When he doesn't answer, she runs to her room and throws herself on to the bed, sobbing. The pain is now a throbbing reality in her heart, one that refuses to go away and gets worse with every shake of her body, every sob from her throat, every tear from her eye.

The memories are worse now, and they are haunting Elanor.

* * *

**M is for Master**

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Master, but even he is stunned.

For a second, he merely stands there, shell-shocked, as she jerks away from him and runs to her room. He has never felt such raw pain, such powerful anguish before so clearly from other person – not even from Qui-Gon.

He is not sure which he is more stunned about – that Elanor's feelings are so strong or that he can sense them so clearly.

But then he shoves everything out of his mind and walks slowly over to her. She is crying now, crying so hard that her whole body shakes with sobs. Her pain is still ripping in the Force, but he wouldn't need the Force anyways to feel her pain – just seeing her like this is enough of a thorn in his heart.

He slowly sits beside her and gently places his hand on her back. At first she tenses, but he waits patiently and after a while she relaxes again. It is not an admission of trust – it is her saying she no longer cares. It stings, but she is grieving – probably properly grieving for the first time since Order 66 – so he understands.

He reaches for the Force, closing his eyes, and then reaches for her. Mentally, she shies away, as he has never initiated such mental contact before, but he stays, calmly and steadily, and after a while she lets him in.

He lets her cling to him in the Force – like a lifeline in a sea of anguish, a light in the dark of rage, a familiar presence in a crowd of pain – and wraps his arms around her in turn to replicate the gesture physically, pulling her close to him and calming her mind with his own.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the storm begins to lift.

When it is completely gone, he returns to himself – and the girl nestled against his chest, tear tracks still fresh on her face.

But when he tries to withdraw from her mind, he realizes with a start that a tendril of his consciousness has stayed behind, has bonded with a tendril of hers. Surprise fills him as he understands what has happened.

Due to the fact that her bond with her later Master was so crudely and cruelly severed by death, the bond's ragged, torn edge remains in her mind. However, because she has never gone back and examined it or released her emotions in the Force, she has never realized that. Therefore, when he touched her mind, the bond immediately sought to be complete again – only, this time, with his presence.

She shifts in his embrace and he looks down to see her wide, surprised green eyes meet his own at the same time he feels her warily poke at the bond, unsure of it. He reaches out along the bond to reassure her, surprised at how easy it is and how strong the bond is for one so new, and she starts, pulling away from him.

He waits for a few seconds, allowing her to calm down, and then quietly explains what he thinks has happened.

Now that he has the bond, he has no trouble at her sensing her surprise – and her fear.

She does not fear _him_ exactly. She just fears that he will not want the bond – and that he will sever it right before her, which he does have the power and the knowledge to do.

He is startled to realize that he feels . . . slightly hopeful, for some reason, that she wants the bond, that she wants to be able to feel the same closeness with him that a Master has with a Padawan that results from the training bond.

He can tell that his silence is getting on her nerves and only making her more nervous. Two more seconds later, and she starts speaking, rapidly and stumbling over her words, trying to apologize – although for what, he's isn't quite sure.

He reaches out and places his hand over hers, silencing her, and smiles gently. He tells her that there is nothing to apologize for – apparently this bond between them is the will of the Force. Besides, he adds, he is impressed by her and does want to be her Master, to complete her training so that she will be the fully-fledged and powerful Jedi he senses she could one day be.

When she realizes that he is leaving it open to her, that he is implying that he is offering to become her Master, the fear drains away faster than rain evaporates on Tatooine and a relieved smile, brilliant and beautiful, lights up her face.

After a moment, he scolds her for trying to hide her tiredness from him and urges her to go to sleep. When she protests that she isn't tired, he raises his eyebrow and reminds her that he is now her Master – so she'd better obey.

She scowls playfully at him, but she does slip back down beneath the sheets.

He places his hand on her forehead and soothes her mind with the Force, slipping a gentle sleep-suggestion through the bond that helps her drift off faster.

When she finally has succumbed to slumber, he removes his hand and gently extracts himself from her mind. She looks so peaceful and young, lying there with her eyes closed and her face relaxed, that he can't help leaning over to kiss her gently on the forehead.

Obi-Wan Kenobi once swore he would never take on another Padawan after dealing with Anakin's mischief, but it appears the vow of a Master no longer means that much.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Chapter Fourteen: N_**

**N is for Night**

Elanor has never liked the night.

She has never liked the dark it brings, or the unnatural quiet that comes, or the loneliness that descends upon her when everyone is asleep.

But she is not afraid of the night. She just doesn't like it. There is a clear distinction.

In the two years that have passed since she became his apprentice, Master Kenobi has recently started training her at night, honing her abilities to sense with the Force. He has also blindfolded her, making sure she can't cheat using Force-enhanced senses.

But she doesn't really mind. He does this to train her, and although she doesn't quite like it, she knows that in order to become a full Jedi Knight, she needs to do things like this.

Tonight they have begun sparring at night. He goes easy on her, using only Ataru and Soresu, for this first round. Had he used any of his more advanced forms, like Jar'Kai, she probably wouldn't have lasted more than a half a minute against him.

However, even without that, she still doesn't last too long. He disarms her easily – almost too easily – and she crosses her arms, scowling. She knows he knows she is, because he is not blindfolded and their bond is strong enough that they can sense each other's emotions without too much trouble.

In any case, she can sense the amusement that ripples through the bond from him as he deactivates his lightsaber and allows her to summon hers back. She lets her indignation flow back, and he laughs as he senses it.

Then they begin again.

They spar long into the night, and through the duels he tests her endurance and concentration and skill to the limit. She knows that he is pleased with her skill, but her concentration falters sometimes when she gets distracts or misjudges a blow – but only rarely.

Finally, after one last duel, he clips his lightsaber back to his belt and signals the end. She bows shortly to him, as is proper, and she senses him smile as he comes over and places his arm around her shoulders as they begin walking back to the hut.

She starts to pull the blindfold from her eyes, but he stops her. Confused, she reaches out – only to realize that he wants her to prove that she, after being exhausted by a duel, can still use the Force to guide and support herself.

She sticks her tongue out in his general direction, annoyed. She doesn't feel like tripping over something.

He laughs warmly in her ear at her reaction. He tells her it is something that his Master did to him as well, and that he was just as annoyed as she was, but that she will be fine.

She rolls her eyes, which he senses, but her curiosity is piqued by his mention of his own Master. She knows, of course, that he was an apprentice to the great Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, the man who discovered Anakin Skywalker just before he was struck down by the first Sith Lord to have appeared in a thousand years.

The Sith Lord that Master Kenobi killed.

He senses her curiosity, as well as her unspoken questions, and asks her what is wrong.

She assures him nothing is wrong, but she does ask if she can start bothering him with questions about his own upbringing when he was a Padawan.

He merely shrugs. He is obviously not bothered by the idea, or by her.

It is a strange thing, to question your own Master. Her former Master never liked it and thus refused to allow it. She only could ask questions pertaining to the present or the future, not the past.

But midway through their conversation, he suddenly stiffens and comes to an abrupt halt. All the relaxation and amusement has vanished from his mind, leaving only tension and wariness.

She turns her head in his direction, puzzled. She doesn't sense anything wrong, but she trusts in his instincts, which are better than her own.

And then everything makes sense when she hears three simultaneous sounds.

The rallying cry of a Tusken Raider.

The discharge of a laser rifle.

The _snap-hiss_ of the activated lightsaber of her Master.

As Elanor draws her own lightsaber, she remembers one more reason why she doesn't like the night – you can get snuck up on during it.

* * *

**N is for Now**

Obi-Wan Kenobi can't think of a worse time than now for this to happen.

He will be all right; the Force is on his side and he is used to bullying his way through so many attackers so constantly – he did serve as a Jedi General fighting almost constantly during the Clone Wars. He isn't worried for himself.

He is worried about Elanor.

He knows that she is well-trained – he, after all, has been training her for the past two and a half years – and her blade work is as great as his own. He knows that her connection to the Force is strong and powerful, and she has learned to block out distractions. He knows that they, as Jedi, have the advantage of the Tusken Raiders.

But even so, in their time together, along with training her, he has also grown ever closer to her. Despite their age difference of around two decades, their strong training bond and easy friendship has allowed them to grow close, and he is as fond of her as anything.

So – despite all he knows about her, all of his confidence, all of his pride – he still worries for her.

As he whirls through the attackers, he is careful not to kill, only disable. Ever since he has settled on Tatooine, he has had to drive off attacks like this – unpredictable, sudden, and swift. He does not want to hurt the Tusken Raiders; he simply wants them to realize that he is no threat to them unless they push him.

Which are they are doing right now, since they are threatening his apprentice.

The matter is made worse by the fact that not only is she tired from the long hours of dueling and lack of sleep, but she is also blindfolded – and they have been separated.

The thought motivates him, and he abruptly switches his style from the defensive Soresu to the offensive Ataru. The Tusken Raiders, surprised by his switch, are driven back swiftly from his flashing blade.

He is just melting the weapon of a Raider when the Force suddenly ripples.

He throws himself up into the air and backwards, to gain higher ground and prevent whatever harm his danger sense had warned him about. But as he surveys the convoluted scuffle in front of him, he realizes that there is no danger.

Well, not to him.

The danger came from his apprentice.

Frantically, he searches with his eyes and with the Force for her. He hadn't realized that they had been separated so far from each other, which is a bad thing. He kicks himself for not following the age-old Jedi rule about staying together and for charging of on his own, as he is used to fighting solo now.

Finally, he spots the tell-tale flash of her blue lightsaber and darts in that direction. When he runs around the corner, he understands why the Force screamed such a powerful warning at him.

His apprentice is backed against a solid wall, trapped in by six attackers, all fresh and strong and tall. She, meanwhile, is tired and while she has the advantage of swiftness and a lighter weight, the advantage is mostly negated due to the large number of attackers.

He decides the change that – now.

So he jumps in.

Using his lightsaber, he creates ultimate turmoil as he literally drops into the confrontation. The confusion helps his apprentice, who is able to use his surprise and momentum to catch two of the attackers off-guard.

Between the two of them, they are able to drive off the last attackers. When he is certain that they are gone, he deactivates his lightsaber and returns it to his belt, turning to his apprentice. He strides over to her and pulls her into a quick yet tight embrace, relieved that she is not hurt.

She pulls off the blindfold and dares him with her eyes to protest.

The sight brings a soft smile to his lips. After all of this, it seems, his apprentice can still find the spirit and the energy to taunt him and remind him that she still has that cheeky personality.

Obi-Wan Kenobi used to have trouble with the Living Force, but for some reason, when he is around Elanor, he has no trouble focusing on the here and the now.


	15. Chapter 15

**_Chapter Fifteen: O_**

**O is for On**

For Elanor, the challenge is on.

After another year of intensive study under Master Kenobi, he has finally said that he believes her ready to take the Trials.

Of course, the Trials will be somewhat adapted, but still . . .

She is very excited, of course. The day the nightmare called Order 66 happened, she never dreamed that one day she might be pronounced ready and finally take the Trials and become a full Jedi Knight. And yet, today, here, now – it is happening.

Her excitement is cut short when she reaches out to the bond and senses his own feelings on this. He admits that she is ready, but she can feel his reticence about it.

From her position on her bed, she tilts her head as she examines her Master, who is facing away from her. He is nearly twice her age and many times her senior in experience and wisdom, but he doesn't look it – not to her, at least. He still looks like the man and Jedi she has come to regard as a father figure, her Master, the one who cares unconditionally for her. He may be reserved – as he is now – but she knows he cares for her deeply.

He senses it and turns around, raising a questioning eyebrow as he sits down.

She shrugs in reply, unsure how to ask.

At this, the other eyebrow joins the first, and he gives her a disbelieving, almost condescending, look.

With this, she knows that he is giving her permission to ask – whether or not it makes sense.

So she asks him why he doubts her.

He straightens abruptly at her question as emotion flashes through his blue-green eyes. He shakes his head as he assures her that he does not doubt her, else he would not have suggested her to be ready.

She allows her confusion to rise through their bond.

He smiles gently. Standing, he moves to her bed and sits beside her. He reminds her that, as her Master and having spent so much time with her, he cares for her a lot – and therefore, naturally, he is worried about making her undergo something so strenuous, so serious, and so dangerous.

She elbows him teasingly, asking him with a pout why he doesn't trust her to take care of herself.

He laughs, and she sees his shoulders relax. She has always dealt with his reservation like this – by teasing him until he comes out of it – and it seems to work. In any case, his amusement and affection flow through the bond in place of his reticence and he tousles her hair.

She lets him, almost unconsciously learning into his touch as his calloused fingers slide through her hair, brushing against her neck and back. His touch is familiar to her now, more familiar than anyone else's, and he is the only man she would allow so close to her – especially after her experiences at the hands of her captors.

But he has helped her to heal from those days, and so those memories no longer cause her to wake up in the throes of nightmares.

And he has changed her, being and studying with him.

She still has her own personality and her appearance is no different, but she knows that Master Kenobi has rubbed off on her as much as she has impacted him.

She is a lot calmer and level-headed now, not as quick to take impulsive risks. The last time she did, she earned a stinging welt on her leg from his blade.

She is less likely to get distracted in a fight, as her latest spars with him have shown, even when he suddenly switches styles on her. She hasn't defeated him yet, but she is determined that one day she will.

And, most importantly of all, she has learned patience. She can sit still and meditate for hours, if she wishes – or if he demands.

Or at least, she has learned some measure of the thing called patience. Some days she can still drive him crazy and the exasperation will break through his Jedi mask and she will laugh at him until he starts laughing along with her.

All of that – everything she has learned – will now be put to the ultimate test in this, her Trials.

But she doesn't back down. She won't, not this time. The shining dream of finally becoming a Jedi Knight is just too close and too irresistible to even _consider_ putting it off.

The ultimate challenge, the one that has marked every single Jedi in history, beckons to Elanor and the test is on.

* * *

**O is for Off**

Under Obi-Wan Kenobi's direction, Elanor begins preparing to go off and face the Trials.

Were she his apprentice before Order 66 and ready to take the Trials, she would have gone through a formalized process that would end in a Knighting ceremony in the Jedi Council chambers, where he would have sliced off her Padawan braid and she would have been finally recognized as a full Jedi Knight.

Now, of course, things are different.

So the challenge is also different. Instead of going through the four separate Trials as is the norm – well, used to be; he didn't take the Trials the proper way either – she will instead face a quite different challenge.

He has decided that she will prove to him that she is ready by trekking across the desert, alone and unsupplied, and before returning will construct a new lightsaber, one worthy of her position as a Knight.

She has already completed one of the four Trials – the Trial of Flesh – when she lost her Master. But she has long since weathered that storm, and he is confident that she does not need to undergo that Trial again.

It will take great skill, physically, mentally, and in the sense of her command of the Force – which will fulfill the Trial of Skill.

The journey will also take great courage, to face crossing an entire desert with no food or water – although not without aid, as he intends to monitor her carefully – and then also construct a new lightsaber. That will test her courage, as demanded by the Trial of Courage.

Lastly, when she constructs her lightsaber, she will be forced to open herself up to the Force completely. While doing so, she will face her darkest fears and deepest doubts – essentially, she shall learn exactly who and what she is. By facing her fears and doubts and then overcoming them – which she must in order to construct her lightsaber – she will complete the Trial of Spirit.

And in the end, when she returns to him, when she succeeds, he will know that she is ready and worthy of the title Jedi Knight.

He knows that she is well-trained and prepared and full of spirit. She can do it.

But still he worries. He simply cares too greatly for her not to worry.

He knows she can sense it. Even without the training bond, she was always able to pick up the residue of his strongest emotions. Now that she has it, sometimes she can pick up the very flavor of his mood if she so chooses.

But it is not until she is finally ready to leave that she acknowledges that she knows that he knows that she knows of his worry for her.

She does so by turning to him and embracing him lightly.

Startled but nevertheless touched by such an open display of reassurance, he hugs her in return. She relaxes into his embrace, and he knows that she is telling him – in her own, quiet way – that she will be safe and that although she appreciates his concern, she does not think she needs it.

But despite that, before she pulls way, he can't help kissing her hair ever so gently, so gently that he knows she will not sense it.

She gives him her lightsaber, and he clasps her shoulder gently in response. Then she turns around and resolutely strides away from him, her head held high, her shoulders straight, her aura full of confidence.

As Obi-Wan Kenobi watches Elanor stride off, he can't help but pray silently that she will return safely to him.


	16. Chapter 16

**_Chapter Sixteen: P_**

**P is for Part**

The physical part of Elanor's Trials is behind her now.

Her test was designed to test her in parts.

The first part tested her physical endurance – and tested her severely. Crossing the desert without food or water or her lightsaber took a lot out of her.

The landscape was barren and deserted as she crossed it, immersing herself in the Force to support herself when she grew weary. It has taken her a long time – actually a bit longer than she expected.

She did get into a scuffle with some Tusken Raiders, but it was only a patrol of three Raiders and she recovered from the surprise much faster than they did. She did suffer a few scratches here and there, but on the whole she thinks she did well – no serious injuries and no major delays.

The main challenge was in sustaining herself. The Force gave her comfort and soothed away her exhaustion, but even the Force couldn't summon up new energy that usually comes from eating and drinking.

Thankfully, though, she was able to use the Force and what she has learned to find things she could consume safely.

The first part was difficult, as her Master planned.

But now that it is over, she settles down in her chosen cave to have a short nap before she dives into the issue of reconstructing her lightsaber.

As she does, her mind turns to her Master. Their bond is blocked – he set the block there shortly after she left, because a Master is not allowed to interfere in a Padawan's Trials – but it is strong and runs deeper than that. She can still sense his worry, and she guesses that he probably hasn't slept a wink since she left.

The thought touches and slightly concerns her.

She is touched because it tells her the depth of his affection for her. She cares for him as well, but she is younger and has not known as many people as he. For him to give so much of his time and effort and affection to her of all people, then, is a bigger gift than her own affection for him.

But she is also concerned. While Jedi are encouraged to cooperate, they are not encouraged from coming to rely on their fellow Jedi. Master Kenobi is not her fellow Jedi – not yet, for she is still a Padawan – but she is coming to rely on him . . . and the steady affection she feels from him.

It's just become next to impossible for her to imagine her life without him, without their friendly banter and steady routine and powerful bond.

That is a very bad thing.

But she can't help it. There's just a strange fluttery feeling in her heart that lingers even now when he is not near, one that makes her utterly and completely comfortable around him . . . and that, even now, makes her wish that he was here.

Not because she has grown used to his presence – which she has.

Not because he could help her – which he could.

Not because she misses him – which she does.

No, it is somehow much simpler and yet also much deeper a reason than that. Something she doesn't even truly understand, despite the fact that it originates from within her. Something that she has a sneaking suspicion that is from the Force itself.

In any case, whatever the reason, she still wishes he was here, and she cannot change that, no matter how she tries to reason with herself or rationalize the thought.

She clears her mind and turns her attention to getting a good rest. She has endured the physical trials, and she has survived.

Now, Elanor must endure the second part of her Trial – the emotional and mental part.

* * *

**P is for Pacing**

Obi-Wan Kenobi is pacing.

It was only that morning that the Force had trembled with power, and he had known that she had finished the physical part of her Trials and was preparing to reconstruct her lightsaber in the last part.

It would be the most difficult part, for it would be then that she would face who she truly was in the Force for the Trial of Spirit – the Trial that was the one thing that usually tripped up most candidates.

He had first thought that the pain and the worry about sending her off were bad.

Now, he knows better.

The agony of waiting for her to return is a hundred, a thousand, a million times worse, and it ate at everything he had – his mind, his heart, his soul.

So he finds himself pacing. Pacing back and forth across the floor of the hut. Pacing to try and get rid of the nervous energy that was building up inside of him. Pacing, pacing, pacing.

It is not proper of a Jedi, much less a seasoned Jedi Master, but he just can't help himself.

The fire in his chest – the fire she inspires in him – is a nervous ball of sparks today, now. Especially since it knows that he sent her off with no food, no water, and virtually no way of contacting him should she be in trouble save the Force – which he knows she most likely will not do, for to break the block and reach out to him for help is to fail the Trials.

It takes all of his self-control not to break the block himself. It takes even more not to pace outside and scan the horizon for her every ten seconds.

He wishes he could, but it would not be proper and would send the wrong message to her.

So he paces inside, hands folded behind his back, immersed in the Force, senses ready. At the slightest twinge of alarm or fear or anger, he knows that his self-control will snap and that he will go after her – no matter what.

He values her safety much more than he values anything else, much less the Jedi Trials.

But he knows how much the Trials mean to her.

So as he paces, he wrestles internally, trying to decide what he will do should he be confronted with that choice.

Should he ignore it and let her deal with the problems herself – which might cost her her life?

Or should he go to her aid, therefore ruining her chances of passing the Trials – but which might save her?

He doesn't know which to choose. He values her, completely and totally. Her life and her dreams matter equally to him, and he isn't sure which he should side with.

But all that conflict becomes moot when the door opens and she steps inside.

He whirls around to face her, a wide smile breaking out on his face and relief – sweet, glorious, sweeping relief – fills him.

The block drops from the bond, which hums to life instantly, as she smiles at him. She is dusty, and tired, and in need of a shower, but right now he doesn't care.

She is back. She is safe. She has passed.

They step forward at the same time, and he pulls her into a solid embrace. She returns it just as tightly, and for a few minutes – or is it hours? – they remain like that, with her face buried in his chest and his face nestled on top of her long gold-brown hair.

When he finally and reluctantly lets her go, he notes the new lightsaber she carries. It is sleeker and finer and a better design than before.

He scans her face, noting similar changes there as well. She seems more at peace, more assured now that she has faced the depths of who she is and has returned – while not unchanged, at least unscathed.

As she walks away, he lets out a long breath he didn't even know that he was holding.

Elanor has returned to him, safe and sound, and the pacing that Obi-Wan Kenobi was doing before now seems months ago – and utterly useless.


	17. Chapter 17

**_Chapter Seventeen: Q_**

**Q is for Quiet**

For Elanor, quiet reigns now.

The fear of rejection, of failure has passed – she has faced it and conquered it and made it her own. She is a real Jedi now, no longer bearing the braid of a Padawan and no longer under the direct direction of a Master.

Or, at least, theoretically she isn't.

But since she stays with Master Kenobi still, she still obeys him and is still learning from him.

Besides, the training bond that she shares with him still exists – much to her surprise. Usually, the Master dissolves it during the Knighting ceremony – which Master Kenobi has already performed – at the same time that the Master severs the Padawan braid.

But he didn't. He left it.

In a small way, she is glad he did. After an extended absence from his presence during her Trials, feeling his mind rub against hers and sensing his presence is no longer a blessing taken for granted – it is cherished.

Of course, that doesn't mean that physically he is with her all the time now.

He still watches over whatever child Master Yoda ordered him too, so when she woke up this morning, he was just leaving. It is noon now, and he still has not returned.

She does not begrudge the child – whoever it is – Master Kenobi's attention. After all, he spent nearly three years by her own side, particularly when she was just rescued from her captors, worrying and healing and watching over her. And a child is much more fragile than her anyways.

So the hut is quiet now, and she lays there and thinks things over.

Through the Trial of Spirit, she faced her fears and came to terms with her doubts. She knows herself and she is comfortable with herself.

But it is not that that worries her.

It is Master Kenobi himself that worries her.

Come to think of it, he has been quiet too ever since she returned from her Trials – their meals have been absent of the friendly talk, their time before they separated for sleep absent over the normal banter.

Silent, but settled?

Oh, no.

There is turmoil inside of Master Kenobi, grave and deep and powerful. She knows because she can sense the faint tendrils of it from his shielded mind, for even he cannot help the occasional leakage across their bond. And she knows that the turmoil centers around her, for she has sensed his eyes on her even though he does not speak.

She hopes he will confide what is bothering him soon. He is a normally reserved man, but it is still unusual for him to conceal something that bothers him so much.

Besides, she is startled to realize, she _wants_ to help him get over whatever is wrong.

She has no idea where that thought came from.

If he, as a powerful Jedi Master, could not sort out the problem, why is she so arrogant to assume that she could – she, a newly minted Knight?

But she still wishes she could.

Master Kenobi has been there for her so many times, helping her pick up the pieces of her life and healing her of her fears with his steady and reassuring presence. He has never faltered and never complained, although she knows she has been more than just a bundle of trouble for him.

Back then, she didn't regret it – it gave her a chance to see him laugh, to see his face break out into that wide brilliant smile, to see his blue-green eyes glow with an inner light. It gave her a chance to make him focus on the present, not on what he thinks about his failures of the past or his desperation not to fail again in the future. It gave her a chance to see him as just Obi-Wan Kenobi – not a Jedi, not a general, not anything but himself.

But now, she questions it.

Does he think that he has grown too lax?

Does he think he shouldn't have done that?

And worst of all – does he regret it? Regret taking her on as his apprentice so soon after the raw pain from Skywalker's fall to the dark side? Regret opening his mind and heart to her so completely?

She doesn't know the answers to her questions.

And because of that, for Elanor, the quiet is gone – from her heart and from her mind.

* * *

**Q is for Quest**

Obi-Wan Kenobi is on a quest.

Not a physical one, mind, but a quest all the same. One that will test him. One that he has not done in years.

He is trying to look inside of himself again. To glimpse the very depths of his heart and mind and soul as Elanor did when she endured the Trial of Spirit.

He is doing it because of Elanor, but she is not at fault.

Oh, no. She could never be at fault for this.

It is all _his_ fault.

He cannot understand why he feels a strange tug towards Elanor, even more so now than ever. It is that tug that lead him to not dissolve the bond between them, although he knows that that is the standard practice; after all, he did it to Anakin when _he_ was Knighted.

But he just couldn't bring himself to dissolve this bond.

He isn't sure whether he can't because of him or because of her.

The nice part, the Jedi part, the gentleman part – it tells him that he couldn't dissolve it because the bond means so much to her. He knows that she has come to rely on it, and that she is not ready for it to suddenly disappear after it has been her constant companion for over three years.

But deep down he has a sneaking suspicion that the real reason he didn't dissolve it was for his own sake.

He doesn't understand why.

That makes his first question – why can't he let go of this bond?

He has experienced other bonds before – with Qui-Gon and with Anakin and with other Jedi. And in all of those he was able to dissolve the bond, while not without regret, at least without a long hesitation like this. While he liked those bonds and they gave him comfort, he was able to work without them.

But for some reason, he can't say the same for _this_ bond.

And there is his second question – what is different about this bond?

It is simply a Master-Padawan bond, the one he shared as a Padawan with Qui-Gon and the one he shared as a Master with Anakin. No different, save that this bond was formed later, seeing as he was her second Master and not her first. But that should only make the bond newer and weaker, and more easily severed.

It shouldn't make it harder to sever, to dissolve – to let go.

He turns his mind to Elanor herself. For some reason, he can't quite sit still with the idea of her leaving either.

It is not a matter of wanting to protect her – which he does – it just is the simple fact that he now can no longer imagine or be content with living on Tatooine as a lone hermit waiting for Luke to grow up. After spending three years in the company of Elanor, who can make him laugh and smile and who teases him incessantly, he just cannot face the prospect of living it out all alone again with just the memories of that.

He wishes she would stay.

But he knows he cannot hold her back should she choose to leave. There are more worlds that she could go to and live on, worlds more beautiful and better suited to her than the dry, burning, deserted climate of Tatooine.

Now, if only the part that does want to accept that will accept that.

And so Obi-Wan Kenobi's quest is now two-fold – to answer his questions about letting Elanor go . . . and to discover what part of him will not accept that she might leave him.


	18. Chapter 18

**_Chapter Eighteen: R_**

**R is for Remembering**

As Elanor waits for Master Kenobi to return, she lies on her bed and is now remembering.

Jedi don't usually indulge in what-ifs and such, but Master Kenobi has taught her the importance of remembering what you have lost – for only by accepting that they are gone can one begin to heal and move on.

So she lays there with her eyes closed as images flash through her mind.

Images of her childhood friends, the ones she had when she was just a youngling in the crèche and the ones she worked with as a Padawan apprentice. Of course, between the two groups, she lost some friends – some to the Jedi Corps when they were not chosen as Padawans and others to war and death.

She remembers the laughter and the jokes and the outings they shared, in that time before war and before the darkness . . . before the Empire. She was barely five years old then, but she remembers some things.

Images of her teachers, the ones who taught her so much. Teachers like Master Yoda and Master Drallig and quite a few others, for lighsaber and politics and history and science and everything else in between.

She remembers how they drilled her and how she complained then – but also how well their lessons have served her now, now that Jedi are hunted and the Order is no more.

And images of the Temple, her home – the home of all Jedi.

The majesty of it, rising about the Coruscant skyline as a beacon to all Jedi returning home. The calm of it, where the Force was always cool and clean and easy to access and where the rooms were well-kept and beautiful, even the Archives. And the safety of it, the knowledge that whenever she returned to it, she was safe.

Of course, now with the Temple destroyed, it is no longer quite her home.

She turns her mind away from the images of death and destruction from Order 66, seeking a suitable replacement that will help keep the nausea and the tears away – and settles on the memories of her time here . . . with Master Kenobi.

Tatooine would not be a planet she would choose to live on in exile. It is barren, devoid of the Living Force. It is hot and dry, with two strong suns baking the sand dunes every single day.

But then again, perhaps it is a smart choice.

Tatooine is far away from Republic – well, now Empire – space and the Empire will not bother Hutt space.

She is surprised to recall the warm feelings that she associates with Tatooine now.

Well, not exactly with Tatooine.

Actually, she has those warm feelings because on Tatooine, she is with Master Kenobi.

At that, she opens her eyes, but the images keep on coming now that her mind has turned to that prospect.

The images of them laughing and going through easy banter and training both in hand-to-hand combat and with the lightsaber. The images of how silly he looked the time she finally beat him in hand-to-hand combat and he lay sprawled on the ground, his hair a mess and his eyes shining with confusion. The images of how grumpy he was the days she woke him up early to go training like he'd promised.

He never did like waking up early, it seems.

The images make her remember how close she has grown to Master Kenobi – how much closer she is to him than she was to her former Master, even though she was with her former Master for at least twice the years she was with Master Kenobi.

And it is true. She knows now that her Master-Padawan relationship with Master Kenobi is far stronger than any other one she has ever experienced. Even if she somehow found her former Master alive and well, she would not want to come out of the bond she has with Master Kenobi.

The decision startles her at first. But she accepts it quickly.

Master Kenobi has given her so much – the least she could do would be to repay him by giving him the company she knows he craves in this lonesome exile. She may not like Tatooine, but condemning him to live here alone when he knows she was once here would be too cruel for her to do. And with him here, staying wouldn't be so bad.

With that decision made, Elanor closes her eyes and keeps on remembering.

* * *

**R is for Realizing**

Obi-Wan Kenobi has just started realizing what is going on.

He left the hut early in an attempt to get a whole day to himself, to think and meditate and ponder. But even that doesn't seem to be enough. His mind just won't be quiet.

His mind won't be quiet for one reason and one reason only.

He just realized it last night, when he came to check on Elanor and found her sitting on her bed, her legs folded beneath her in a meditative position, her hands raised as she brushed out the silky waterfall of gold-brown hair. Her eyes were closed and her expression at peace.

She looked peaceful. She looked wonderful. She looked _beautiful_.

The thought had stunned him – and still does.

Because it is only then that he realizes what the fire in his chest means, what the tug he feels means, what the electric shock that courses through him when they touch means.

Because it is only then that he realizes the truth.

Because it is only then that he realizes he loves her.

He loves Elanor.

The thought is at once attractive and repulsive.

Attractive, because it explains everything that he has sensed about her – about what made her different, unique, special to him, personally. Attractive, because he has always sensed that void in him and now he senses that she has the ability to fill that void. Attractive, because he does want to protect her and he does want her.

But also repulsive.

Repulsive, not because of her but because of him. Jedi do not love; attachment is strictly forbidden – to all of them. Even though the Jedi Order is all but gone, he still tries to adhere to the tenets of the Order. And because he is old, and because he cannot offer her anything.

So now he struggles with this issue.

On one hand, he feels he should give in. Their bond is strong, the strongest he has ever felt. Therefore, he thinks that it is the will of the Force – a will he has always tried to follow. Besides, he has given everything he has to give and more to the Jedi – could he not, just this one time, take a little for himself?

But on the other hand, he feels he should not. He is still a Jedi – they are _both_ still Jedi. It would be selfish, utterly and completely selfish, to do this now whilst he still has to watch over Luke and prepare for that. Jedi are selfless, not selfish.

And, besides, this should be her choice, not his. She would be the one giving up everything to him, the one being claimed, the one who would bind herself to him. He would do nothing – if anything, he would gain.

He would gain her.

In light of his failures and his age, he cannot believe she would ever choose him.

Not her.

She is beautiful, yes – very beautiful. Beautiful enough that she could probably have more than her fair share of men to choose from. Men her equal in age and in appearance. Men who could give her everything she wants, everything she needs.

Men who would be far better choices than him.

The thought is not comforting, and he is ashamed to realize it is not because he really does want her. Her companionship, her friendship, her presence. He wants her nearby. He wants to see her eyes light up, to hear her laugh, to sense her joy.

Jedi should not want or need anything like that, but he does.

As he trudges back to the hut, he can only sigh. He has tried, but obviously things haven't worked out. He just cannot help his feelings this time.

So he decides to tell her. Tell her and see her reaction. And then act.

Obi-Wan Kenobi's realization can only have two outcomes – Elanor accepts or Elanor breaks his heart.


	19. Chapter 19

**_Chapter Nineteen: S_**

**S is for Speaking**

Obi-Wan Kenobi is so nervous that he can hardly go through with speaking.

He came home to find Elanor lying on her bed, her hands behind her head, her eyes closed, her mind wandering in recollection of memories. She was ready for sleep, so her long hair streamed out over the pillow and she was clad in her sleep clothes – the ones that are looser and yet at the same time accentuate her figure a lot more than her Jedi uniform.

At the sight of her, his determination fled again. With a sigh, he turned to leave. How could he, in good conscience, tell a girl who was entrusted to his care – his former Padawan – that he now had fallen in with her?

But as he turned to leave, he hears a rustle of cloth – and then her soft voice says his name.

He stops abruptly, but doesn't turn around. He can't look at her. He just can't.

He senses her confusion, but does not acknowledge it and nor does she. She merely asks him what is wrong.

He tersely replies that nothing is.

She snorts at his words, and he turns, surprised at her reaction. Normally, she respects his boundaries and reticence a lot more than that.

She is propped up on her elbow, her emerald eyes fixed on his.

He swallows hard as he meets her eyes. Her emerald eyes have always been expressive, and they have always demanded his attention – and the truth. And now they do so even more.

She slips off the bed and walks right up in front of him. She repeats her question – or tries to – as he brushes past her to stand by the window, not facing her, putting his hands on the ledge to stop them from shaking.

He can feel her confusion, which is now mixed with hurt, and a pang goes through him. He knows that he has hurt her by brushing her off, and it pains him.

She asks him yet again what is wrong.

He repeats that it is nothing.

This time, she does more than snort – the Force ripples with power, and suddenly the bond hums to life as she reaches for it. Caught off-guard, he is unable to do anything as her mind suddenly touches his own.

But he is not a Jedi Master for nothing.

The second her thoughts brush against his, he slams his shields up, blocking her entrance into the deep recesses of his mind and forcing her out from his end of the bond entirely.

He hears her inhale sharply as she senses it, and the touch retreats instantly. He hears a creak as she sinks back down on her bed, and sadness suddenly engulfs her.

His heart cringes.

Finally, he turns around to face her – but she is no longer looking at him.

Her eyes are downcast, fixed on the floor, and they are lacking the normal brilliance he is accustomed to seeing. He can sense that she is fighting back something, but what he does not know.

Then she looks up, although not without effort, and asks him quietly if he wants her to leave – if that is because he is pushing her away.

His eyes go wide. He never expected her to come up with something so . . . so far-fetched from the simple thing of pushing her away. But then he realizes that by shutting her out, she thinks he wants to dissolve the bond between them – only he doesn't.

With a few quick steps, he is by her side. But she looks away, and he can sense the fear that he will tell her to go away.

So he sits beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder while using his other to turn her head back to face him. She turns to face him, but when she keeps her eyes downcast, he tilts her head upwards.

In her eyes, he can see her fear of rejection – and a strange, simmering emotion that perfectly matches the fire in his chest.

It is only then that he realizes that whatever his own feelings towards her are, she feels the same.

So, in a soft tone that matches her own, he finally tells her what is wrong.

Obi-Wan Kenobi has never been more reluctant to do something like this – speaking his mind.

* * *

**S is for Sleep**

Elanor was nearly ready to go to sleep when Master Kenobi returned, but no longer.

Now, with his revelation hanging on the air between them, every trace of sleep and rest flees from her mind.

Her head comes up instantly at his words, and confusion takes over.

She can't have heard that right.

She _cannot_ have heard that right.

He did not just say what she thought he said . . . did he?

She meets his blue-green eyes at the same time that a gentle smile curves his lips. She knows that he can sense her confusion at his words, and she knows now that it was his own fear of rejection that lead him to be so nervous beforehand.

But now the roles have changed – she is now the nervous one and he is the calm one.

She opens her mouth but no words, no sound comes out. She wants desperately to ask him – to ask him how, why.

He seems to understand, because he repeats the statement. But oh so softly – so softly that if she didn't sense his emotions in the Force, she wouldn't have known that he had spoken.

She pulls away. This has to be a hoax – a joke – a _dream_. This can't be happening.

It is not because she doesn't want it to happen – in fact, she very much has dreamed for something like this, ever since she realized that her affection for him was somewhat deeper and more complex than anything she has ever felt before.

But it is because of that she thinks that this can't be right.

She wants it so badly – to accept, to know it's real – that she is afraid it's just a dream and she'll wake up and nothing will have changed.

Maybe he senses that or maybe he just knows, but in any case, moments later she feels his arms slip around her waist from behind and he gently pulls her against him, his hold strong yet gentle, so if she chose to pull away, she could. He is only using a fraction of his true strength, after all.

She trembles as her back comes in to contact with his chest and his warm breath brushes her hair, but not out of fear.

Well, out of fear, but not the fear of men. Not the fear of him either.

Just the plain fear that she is merely dreaming and that this isn't real.

He asks her what is wrong, his voice low – but she has no trouble hearing that warm, deep voice. Not when it is so close to her ear. Not when it is the voice of the one she likes so much.

No, not likes.

Loves.

She tells him, in words that fly from her lips so quickly she worries he won't hear.

He pauses as she finishes, and his hold around her waist loosens ever so slightly. She can sense him thinking, sense him processing her words carefully.

And then his arms drop from her waist.

She starts, but only for a second.

Because then he is in front of her, his arms sliding around her, pulling her against his chest again. This time, though, his grip is strong and unyielding as he crushes her against him. She is too startled to do anything but go with it and lift her head to look at his smoldering blue-green eyes.

And then he kisses her.

The kiss is something new to her, something she has never experienced – but oh is it addicting. To feel his arms tight around her, his lips on hers, his emotions flooding their bond with power – all of it is enough to make her head spin as if she'd just drowned a whole gallon of alcohol.

It hits her then, with the power of a laser blast.

This is real. He really does love her, as she loves him.

This is _real_.

If sleep ever was on Elanor's mind, now it has fled completely.


	20. Chapter 20

**_Chapter Twenty: T_**

**T is for Trust**

Obi-Wan Kenobi is the only man that Elanor can ever bring herself to trust.

Barely a good word for it, trust. Just five simple letters that somehow capture a whole range of emotions that she has no other word for. One simple syllable that somehow means the whole world to her – and to Master Kenobi.

No. Not Master Kenobi. Not any longer.

No.

He is just Obi-Wan to her now.

Not a general; not a Jedi; not her former Master.

Just Obi-Wan.

She knows this as clearly as she knows her own name – or rather, as clearly as she used to know her own name. Between the feel on his lips against her skin and the emotions that are saturating the bond, her own name is somewhat a mystery to her.

But she can't help it – she doesn't want the fog to lift, or the excitement and the adrenaline to stop flooding into her veins. She can't help responding to his touch anymore than she can't stop breathing.

When he pulls back and she gasps for breath, her heart pounding in her chest, his blue-green eyes are full of a question that she understands immediately.

She leans forward and kisses him again, giving him his answer – as well as taking away his breath. His hands rise on her back, sliding through her long hair and sending uncontrollable shivers down her spine.

For any other man, she would not have done this. She would have, perhaps, waited some time more to get to know them, for them to court her. She would have, perhaps, held this off a while, not be so bold.

But Obi-Wan is not just any other man.

She doesn't need to wait to know him – she already does, from the three years they have spent together and the bond humming in the back of her mind.

She doesn't need him to court her – he already has, in his own gentle, subtle way.

And she doesn't want to wait, to not be bold, to hold this off.

Time falls away too quickly for her to linger over this any longer.

So she won't. She'll grab it in her hands right now and make as much use of it as possible. She'll hold it here, close to her heart, and never let it go. She will stretch out this moment for as long as she can and never forget it.

He pushes her away, gently, to break the kiss and in the next moment, his hands are slipping her shift from her shoulders.

She lets him. He won't hurt her, and the feel of his calloused fingers against her skin is soothing to her.

In any case, she returns the favor a few minutes later as she helps him shed the layered Jedi tunic that he always wears.

Then she pulls him to the bed, her long hair falling about her shoulders, the Force tingling with electricity from them.

It is his turn to tremble when her hands brush across his skin, and she sees that he has the same problem as her – he can't help but respond to her touch. So it is a discovery for them both, although he unquestionably has the advantage over her in terms of strength and experience.

But for the moment she enjoys her power over him, knowing that in the end, she will be completely at his mercy.

So she lavishes everything she has to give on him, feeling him shiver beneath her touch and silencing his gasps with kisses that make her head spin.

Finally, though, it seems he has had enough of her feathery explorations and gentle teasing, for he suddenly pulls her to his chest and, using the swift and unpredictable reflexes that have always meant she lost to him in sparring, changes their positions, pinning her beneath him with his solid weight and greater strength.

She looks up at him and sees, really, only his blue-green eyes. His eyes are smoldering with power and desire and need, but there are hints of other emotions too – caring; concern; questions.

In a voice that is soft and deep and almost breathless, he asks her if she's ready, if she really wants this.

She knows that she has but to hesitate or say no, and he will stop immediately. It will hurt him, but he won't dare to push her beyond what she wants from him. Even now, when his self-control is on the verge of snapping, he still retains the ability to stop.

An ability her captors lacked.

She realizes then, quite suddenly, that right now she is in the same position as she was when her captors first tore her innocence from her – but the situation and the circumstances are quite different now.

Now this is of her own free will, with a man she admires, loves, and desires.

So Elanor yields to her trust in Obi-Wan Kenobi as she arches against him and urges him to continue.

* * *

**T is for Tangle**

Obi-Wan Kenobi looks at Elanor, sleeping peacefully in his arms, and marvels at how much of a tangle his life has become.

For one thing, when he lost Anakin to the dark side and Padmé to childbirth and the Jedi Order to Order 66, he never expected – amidst all of his failures – that one day he would be rewarded with something he really doesn't deserve.

Not that he won't accept it. She is everything he once dreamed for but then lost; everything he needed to heal him and remind him of what it means to be a man and a Jedi instead of being one or the other.

But he still feels he does not deserve it.

For another, he never expected a simple rescue would turn into something . . . well, something like this.

He has never felt so sated and content and loved in his life. He has never sensed something so powerful and beautiful, like their bond – or their love. And he certainly never thought it would happen to someone like him.

She shifts in his embrace, a soft sigh escaping her lips, and he looks back down at her. Her eyes are closed and she is completely relaxed and at peace, despite the fact that she has surrendered everything she has to give to him.

She reminds him of a wild cat when she is like this – sharp and powerful and sleek, but also gentle and soft when one manages to get past her outer defenses. The same words she hurls at an enemy to shatter them can be the same words she can use to soften him. The same eyes that flash at enemies and make them tremble in fear are the same eyes that are so expressive and beautiful to him.

She means everything to him now. Everything he wants and needs – it is all right here, sleeping in his arms. There is nothing that could possible replace her. And there is nothing he wouldn't give to save her.

He pulls her slightly closer to him as he pulls the blankets up and over them, covering them and offering them some protection against the chilly winds that sweep across Tatooine at night.

She nestles against him trustingly, not even awakening as his arms tighten around her.

Even now – or perhaps especially now – he marvels at the amount of trust she has in him. Were he to have gone through the same thing – or even something similar – he doesn't think he could have recovered so quickly.

But perhaps that is what makes her seem so special and so precious to him.

It takes an extraordinarily strong character to survive something like that, and an even stronger one to be able to pick up the pieces and allow a man to slip past and glimpse her at her most vulnerable again. It is not something any ordinary person could endure.

And it makes her precious. He never wants her to suffer something like that ever again. He wants to take her in his arms and protect her from anything that threatens to hurt her. He wants to shield her from anything and everything.

The sentiments are not exactly Jedi-like, for they speak of possession and attachment and obsession – the very things that led to Anakin's downfall.

But right now he sort of doesn't care. The Jedi Code existed once, and he followed it – but the Code wasn't always the best thing to be followed, as his late Master Qui-Gon proved several times over.

Besides, there are some things worth breaking the rules. She is one of them.

And anyways, is he really at fault for wanting to protect her from being violated and abused like she was? She has always aroused a protective instinct in him, even when he didn't love her as deeply as he does now. He would have protected her anyways. The only difference is that now the one he fights for holds the key to his heart.

So that makes two people he will protect – Luke . . . and her.

He isn't sure who he would value more. Luke is the future of his duty, but she is the future of his very being.

He knows, of course, who she would urge him to choose. And he knows which one he should choose.

But knowing is not the same as doing.

Unconsciously, he pulls her closer to him. He prays that that choice never falls upon his shoulders, for he never wants to make it – for he knows that if he does, while the outcome might be different, his heart will still be broken and he will never forget that.

He is not ready to let go of her yet. He isn't sure he'll ever be ready to let her go.

He smiles faintly as a familiar voice sounds in his mind, gently chastising him for focusing so much on the future instead of the here and the now.

Elanor is his here and now. To focus on and worry about the future will mean losing sight the present – of her.

So he won't do it.

Obi-Wan Kenobi's life is a tangle now, but he doesn't care in the slightest.


	21. Chapter 21

**_Chapter Twenty-One: U_**

**U is for Up**

Obi-Wan Kenobi is up early the next morning.

He opens his eyes to find Elanor still nestled in his arms. A faint smile is on her lips, and she is completely relaxed, at peace. She hasn't yet awoken and he can sense the peace and quiet of sleep in her aura.

He smiles as he recalls last night, which was devoid completely of peace and quiet. She was tentative and wary at first, and he was hesitant as well, not wanting to hurt her. He didn't want to reawaken her fears from her days with her captors.

But eventually the awkwardness and wariness drained away, and their love outshone her bad memories.

Anger flashes through him momentarily as he recalls how startled she was when it was over, how she lay panting in disbelief when he wrapped her in his arms, cradling her against his chest and soothing her overloaded mind with the Force.

She had never been allowed to climax, and he remembers how angry he was that her captors simply went for their own pleasure and never allowed her a taste of what her own would be.

At that thought, he pulls her closer to him, kissing her hair gently. He had vowed then to never let another person ever use her so . . . so . . . so . . .

He couldn't even describe it because he was so angry.

But she calmed him with gentle words. She had told him quite simply that she trusted him to protect her – that she always would – and that her past experiences didn't and shouldn't matter, because her only future was him.

Her words had been simple yet had touched him deeply, and they had allowed him to finally relax as she had drifted off to sleep.

So for a moment, he just studies her. She is so young and beautiful and at peace that he is loathe to leave her side. He just wants to stay here and hold her and holding on to the precious memories they form together.

But his duty calls. He needs to watch over Luke.

She will be safe here, even without him by her side. He has long since driven home the message to the Tusken Raiders, and so they no longer bother this area – on the contrary, they keep a wide berth.

And she is not helpless. Short of a full army, she can handle it herself. After all, he did train her, and she is technically a full Jedi Knight now.

Of course, if a full army is here, they have bigger concerns to be worried about.

So he gently unwinds his arms from around her, and kisses her lightly on the forehead. He smiles, tracing a soothing hand through her hair, as she shifts uneasily and a soft whimper escapes her lips. He knows that some part of her mind has noticed the sudden lack of warmth and protection, so he kisses her again and she relaxes. Then he slips off the bed, tucking the blankets around her.

He picks up their discarded clothes with a rueful smile. He drops hers on a nearby chair, knowing she will find it when she awakens, and tosses his own away for now.

Rummaging around, he finds a new sleeping shift for her and gently slips her into it. He doubts anyone will disturb her, but just in case, he thinks she would rather be somewhat clothed.

Gathering new clothes from his room, he moves to shower before he eats and leaves.

He has just finished the shower and is pulling on his pants when terror suddenly ripples in the Force. He straightens abruptly, banging his head on the door. With a soft curse, he rubs his head and makes his way back to her, alarmed.

But then he realizes what the problem is.

She is thrashing around in the bed, no longer relaxed or at peace. She is caught in the throes of a nightmare, one that has her screaming in denial and pain.

He runs to her side, gripping her shoulders and holding her down lest she hurt herself. It is hard, though, because she fights him. Because of the blind panic that he senses emanating from her and the fact that it is not his name that she is currently wrestling with, he knows she is not fully conscious.

Finally, he decides to utilize his full strength to pin her down at the same time that he reaches through their bond and uses the Force to send a rippling wave through her mind.

Her eyes flash open and she immediately stops struggling. She blinks at him, confusion taking the place of panic, and he lets her go. She sits up and begins to ask a question before she remembers – and then her hand flies to her mouth and her eyes go wide.

He opens his arms and, after a second of hesitation, she throws herself into them. Shivers shake her whole body as she trembles against him and he tries to soothe her with the Force, murmuring comforting words in her ear.

Whatever her nightmare was, it scared her greatly, he sees.

For his part, he is startled that she had one. She hasn't had one in years – not since she became his apprentice, anyways.

And it does not escape him that it is only after last night that she had one.

He just hopes that their sleeping together is not the reason for her nightmare.

As Obi-Wan Kenobi looks down at a quivering Elanor, he wishes she woken up a better way than she did.

* * *

**U is for Under**

The tension in Elanor lingers just under the surface.

She nestles in Obi-Wan's warm embrace as his arms encircle her securely and his voice murmurs soothing words in her ear. She can feel the warmth of his skin through her light shift, and can sense his concern across their bond.

And she is touched that he knows exactly what to do – he just holds her and comforts her with meaningless words and strokes her hair.

But even the soothing, reassuring presence of the man she loves isn't enough to overpower the immediate yet fading nightmare, that black void that threatens to sink its claws into her and drag her screaming into a pit of her worst fears. . .

After a long time, her heartbeat begins to return to normal, her grip on him loosens and the tears in her eyes start drying up. But still she remains in his embrace, loathe to retreat from the warm and safe place that his embrace offers her.

Finally, he shifts slightly and she reluctantly draws back so he can speak.

He caresses the side of her face gently as he asks her what was wrong, what happened.

She relaxes into his touch for a moment, closing her eyes as she steadies herself. Then she tells him that she was having a nightmare.

His lips twitch, and she knows he is waiting for a better answer.

She looks down. She knows how much guilt he bears over Order 66 and she had decided long ago never to press him on it. But she doesn't want to lie to him – he would sense it, for one thing, and she does not want him to get the wrong idea.

Finally – reluctantly – hesitantly – she tells him that it was about the attack on the Temple.

She winces when his blue-green eyes immediately darken and he stiffens somewhat, his arms tightening around her. Her guess as to his reaction was right – unfortunately.

He asks, guardedly, lowly, tightly, why and what she dreamed.

She tries to brush it off.

Wrong move.

His eyes flash, darkening like an approaching storm sullied by volcano ash and putrid rain, and the Force coils around him as he calls it to him in an instinctive move. Suddenly he appears to her as she knows he must have appeared to his enemies and his allies as they stood in fear and awe – powerful and threatening and deadly.

She knows that it is merely an instinct, an instinct from three long years of war.

She knows that he isn't doing this to scare her – he's actually scared _for_ her.

And she knows that he isn't going to hurt her – he's trying to calm himself so he doesn't go off and hurt the one who caused this.

But she can't help herself from cringing slightly.

The moment she does so, he starts as though she has physically shocked him. For a second, the wildness of battle returns to his eyes and he tenses, his eyes going wide and seeing something beyond her, apart from her . . . something that terrifies him as much as it calls to him.

And it doesn't call in a good way.

So for a second, she is finally and truly scared for him. She has only seen him in battle but a few times, and those were mere water balloon fights compared to the battles of war. She knows his skill and his power and his control – but she also fears that it will not be enough.

For she has also seen the raw power and deadly skill and overpowering anger of Anakin Skywalker, the man who causes her nightmares.

She doesn't know who would emerge victorious from a fight between the two, but she does not want to find out. Not now. Perhaps, not ever.

She is not ready to lose Obi-Wan to the traitor of a Sith Lord, and she never wants to see the day where they fight as enemies and not as friends.

But, she fears, with this new nightmare, Obi-Wan will discern where her original lightsaber injuries came from and who the dark man in her nightmares is – and that he will go after Anakin . . . and that he won't come back to her.

And then the fire suddenly drains from his eyes and, although he doesn't relax, he seems to come back to her. His shoulders sag as he exhales deeply, and he looks down at her, his expression full of self-reproach and apology.

She snuggles back against him, pressing as much of her body as she can against him, relieved that his senses have returned and taking comfort in his solid, steady presence.

It seems to Elanor that the tension in Obi-Wan Kenobi is just as much just under the surface as her own – and that the cause is the same man . . . the traitor who used to be called Anakin Skywalker.


	22. Chapter 22

**_Chapter Twenty-Two: V_**

**V is for Violently**

Obi-Wan Kenobi's dreams have never turned so quickly and so violently.

He does not understand how.

He fell asleep shortly after returning home and eating dinner. Elanor was still awake, waiting in the bed, but only just barely keeping her eyes open. After he slipped into the bed beside her, draping his arm over her waist and pulling her against him, she merely nestled into his hold before slipping off into peaceful oblivion. He was physically tired and mentally serene, so he fell asleep swiftly afterwards, easily and quietly.

He does not have an inkling of why.

Dreams are usually symbolic when Jedi get them. They usually _mean_ something – and for him, they usually foreshadow the future. But he and Elanor had already admitted their love quite a while ago, yet there had been no dreams triggered by that. And there was nothing different about tonight that would have triggered a nightmare.

The only he does know is what his dreams are about – and that is the one thing he wishes he didn't.

At first, the dream is empty and silent and dark, like a long night that stretches on forever, seemingly without end. He simply stays there, lingering without a purpose, loitering without a view.

But then things change.

Suddenly he is falling through a sea of images, some of which are his earliest memories while others are his newest. Voices echo too, disjointed and distanced from the images, voices that he faintly recognizes from the past and voices that he is sure he has never heard before.

Lights and colors and smells and sounds – they all swirl around in a confusing soup that he can't even begin to start sorting through.

And then the fall stops . . . and he wishes that it would continue.

Now the images are clear, the sound correct – and the implications terrible.

He sees the Battle of Naboo – he sees the brave men who died fighting to take back the palace and protect the two Queens, one fake and one real; he sees the Gungans who were killed by an seemingly never-ending troops of advancing droids; he sees the pilots in space, blown to pieces and burned to ash as they fought to blow up the droid control center; and again he sees his beloved former Master fall in an agonizingly slow, painful death as his scream of denial echoes around the room.

He sees the Battle of Geonosis – he watches as the Jedi who came to his aid fall in battle; he watches as clones ordered to come and rescue him and the others are shot down or blown up; and again he hears Anakin's scream of pain when Dooku severs his arm.

He sees the Temple after Order 66 – the dead all over, Jedi and clones alike, all with lightsaber or blaster wounds that lead to their death.

Then darkness falls, the Temple spiraling away from him, burning and smoking and full of screams of the dead and dying.

When it lifts, he sees Elanor, and his heart jumps into his throat. Her arms and legs are chained to the wall, her body bruised and bleeding, a Force-suppressing collar tight around her neck. The cell is dark and small, and it is obvious that she is exhausted, starved, and beaten, as there are dark circles under her eyes, her clothes are ripped, and blood stains the rags, the wall, and the floor.

The position makes one more thing obvious about her – she is pregnant.

Pregnant with his child.

He does not know how he knows – he just does. Maybe it's him. Or maybe it's the Force.

As he watches, the door opens and her head comes up slowly, as if she barely as the strength to move it. Her emerald eyes are dim, so dim he can barely see them – but then, as the intruder, her captor, steps into light, her eyes suddenly burn with a fire he has never seen. A furious, vengeance-filled, raging fire that is so strong even he takes a step back.

Her captor is looks strange when he comes to stand in front of her – and then his breath catches when he realizes that the man is Vader. Darth Vader.

The raspy, mechanical voice issues from Vader, and he flinches. "Have you reconsidered?" The tone is flat and unemotional and so, so alien.

Elanor's hands curl into fists, and she all but snarls back, "I will never tell you where he is."

Rage fills Vader, and he thunders, "I am growing impatient, apprentice; tell me _now_."

Her chin comes up, and her lips press together. It is a show of defiance that he has never seen from her before – but then again, he is not Vader.

Vader's hand comes up and also curls into a fist – and this time, Elanor chokes, her eyes going wide.

"You carry his child, and you know where he is. Tell me now, and I will spare your life."

Vader releases his grip slightly, but Elanor does not say anything except a single word: "Never."

"Compassion is your downfall, as it has been the downfall of all the Jedi," Vader snarls. "What of the child you carry? Do you not want it to live?"

"Not under you and the Emperor," she spits out. "You would tear my child to pieces."

Vader releases the grip entirely, and she coughs as air rushes back into her lungs.

"I can help you. I can pardon you of being a criminal, an outlaw, a Rebel. I can give you a free, safe, luxurious life on Coruscant. I can keep you safe. All you have to do is give me what I want." Vader's voice is still flat, though, and it ruins the effect of the plea.

Elanor's eyes flash. "The only way I can stop being an outlaw is to stop being a Jedi. And that I will never do. Do what you want and offer what you will, but I tell you now as I have told you before – I will never betray my husband, not while there is still life in me."

"Then you have chosen death!" Vader roars. Suddenly, his lightsaber is in his hand. Suddenly, it is activated. Suddenly, it is driving towards Elanor.

The scream rises unbidden and unexpressed in his throat as the glowing blood-red blade slices straight through Elanor's heart.

She crumples to the ground.

Vader deactivates his lightsaber, turns on his heel, and leaves.

And he awakens.

As he does, he becomes aware that Elanor is shaking him, concern written all over his face. He sits bolt upright and seizes her in a powerful embrace, crushing her against him. Tears run down his face as he gulps in gasping breaths of air, thanking the Force that she is still alive and safe and by his side.

As Obi-Wan Kenobi looks down at the woman he loves, nestled in his arms, he prays that his dreams will not come true – and that their future will not end as violently as he has just seen.

* * *

**V is for Volumes**

Obi-Wan's first reaction upon breaking out of his nightmare speaks volumes to Elanor.

She was awakened not too long after Obi-Wan had returned and pulled her into his arms, and she had relaxed and fallen asleep. It was their usual routine, as she never really felt totally safe and assured and not worried unless he was home, and it was only after he had lain down by her side that she allowed herself to sleep.

But tonight is different.

When she awoke, he was tossing and turning. His hands were clenched into fists, wound in the sheets, and sweat glinted on his forehead and chest. Meaningless words, ones she could not hear, escaped his lips – and granted her a clue as to what afflicted him.

He was having a nightmare. And a bad one, for she has never seen him like this before.

She just begins to shake him when his eyes flash open. When she starts to ask him what happened, he grabs her in a tight embrace, holding her so tightly she can barely breathe.

But she lets him. Whenever she had nightmares from her ordeal, he held her without speaking, merely offering comfort.

She knows that that is what he is seeking now, comfort and reassurance and affection, and she does not hesitate to steady him and be a foundation that he can cling to. And it also offers her a clue as to the subject of his nightmare.

There can only be two possibilities, after all – something about her . . . or his own ordeal with Anakin Skywalker.

After a long while, she senses him beginning to calm down. His heart, which earlier was pounding in his chest, begins to slowly slow down. His breathing, which earlier came out in desperate, rasping gasps that ruffled her hair, begins to slow become deeper and more relaxed. And his grip, which earlier was tight enough to break her ribs, begins to slowly become loose and gentle instead of desperate and crushing.

Finally she senses him clear his mind as he falls back down on the bed, taking her with him. She snuggles against him, content to rest like this with his arms around her until he is ready to talk.

Moments later, he seems to be ready. One hand creeps up her back and begins a rhythmic stroking of her hair, which she automatically arches in to, as he sighs deeply. Turning his head to her, he asks her quietly if she is all right.

She opens her eyes and scowls at him. After all of that, _he_ is asking _her_ if she is all right?

He shifts under her gaze and averts his eyes, understanding her silent scolding. He knows her well enough by now to understand such a message; and even if he didn't, she is not exactly keeping her emotions quiet, which she knows he can sense in the Force.

When a full minute passes in silence, she gives up and nudges him. His eyes flash back to hers, and she asks him, softly, the same question he asked her.

He forces a smile, tightening his arms around her, but the smile does not reach his eyes, which are troubled, dark depths of blue-green instead of the normal sparkling, mischievous, content depths they usually are.

Finally, he sighs and reaches out to touch her forehead. She tries to question him, but he merely shakes his head as he calls the Force to him.

She jumps as the bond suddenly flares to life and he lets his nightmare swirl into her mind.

When it is over, she opens her eyes and suddenly notes the pain and the agony and the self-reproach in his eyes – and all of a sudden she understands.

She understands what haunts him so much. She understands what pains him so greatly. And she understands the ache that she has always sensed in the back of his mind, in the recesses of his heart.

He is comparing her to Anakin. He loved Anakin; now he loves her. And he lost Anakin; so now he fears to lose her.

This is what has left him sweating and shaking and having nightmares. This is what has caused him to hold her so tightly and treasure her so much. This is what has caused him to be so overprotective towards her.

Not that she minds, of course.

But now, as she opens her eyes and stares into his eyes, she feels that she finally understands him.

She reminds him softly that even Jedi dream, in a whisper so low that only a Jedi would hear it. Not all things they see during sleep come true.

He sighs and brushes his fingers through her hair. He replies that he knows, but that wisdom doesn't always help him when it comes to emotions.

She tilts her head in confusion.

He manages a small smile, and explains that while he was a good Jedi, he was never a great one. All of this was because he simply cared too much about some people who grew close to him – like Qui-Gon, and like Anakin.

She shakes her head sharply. It is no flaw to her that he can feel compassion and love; on the contrary, she believes it is his greatest strength. It is what drew her to him, after all, and what made their love possible now of all times.

For a second, she can see how his inner insecurities fight against the acceptance of her words, so she reminds him that one day they will let go of each other – but when they do, they will meet again through joining the Force. So she doesn't care that he can feel compassion and affection; it is what she is counting on to bring them together again after death, after all.

After a long second, he exhales and manages a weak smile, giving into the sense of her words. He sighs again and pulls her closer.

In return, she presses her head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and relaxing in the safety of his embrace.

For a moment, they are relaxed, she with the knowledge that he is close and protecting her and he with the knowledge that she is close and is protected by him.

Then suddenly she remembers how tired she was. She closes her eyes and begins to drift off to sleep, tired and content. He merely chuckles and shifts slightly so that he can kiss her lightly.

Obi-Wan's reaction – to quickly hold her tightly and to immediately make sure _she_ was all right – speaks volumes about his love for her, and Elanor feels honored and amazed that he loves her that much . . . and that she loves him just as much in return.


	23. Chapter 23

**_Chapter Twenty-Three: W_**

**W is for Wonders**

When Elanor hears voices growing louder and senses two people approaching, she wonders what is going on.

One of the people is Obi-Wan. He is calm, but does not react to her questioning probe along the bond, and most strangely of all is returning midday. Normally, he's out by morning and returns home only by evening, unless he's going shopping. But today is not one of those days.

She lingers over that for a mere second though. She enjoys the rare days he stays home with her, and she doesn't complain. It is selfish of her, perhaps, but her love for him overpowers such reproachful thoughts most of the time.

The other person confuses her even more. He is young, she senses, and seems familiar. . . But she has never felt that presence or sensed that mind before and so she doesn't understand why he seems familiar. . .

Opening her eyes, she rises to her feet in one fluid moment. Over eighteen years have passed since she first met Obi-Wan, and she has attained many of the markers of a true Jedi Knight as the years have gone by – along with further breaking in pieces one of the most important Jedi rules concerning attachment as she fell deeper and deeper in love with Obi-Wan.

But she doesn't regret it. Not for a minute, or even a second.

Obi-Wan is her lover, her soulmate, her other half. She wouldn't trade anything in the universe for him, and there is nothing in the universe she wouldn't do to save him, to spare him from injury, to protect him from pain.

She knows that he feels similarly for her, and his protective instinct is even stronger than hers. He has become more relaxed as time has passed, but he will never fully stop feeling anxiety about her.

She still doesn't mind though. It is a small price to pay to feel his love and be able to return it.

When the door opens, she waits for a moment, reaching out with the Force to question him yet again, not sure if he wants her to reveal herself or not. He merely sends back a calm reassurance and encouragement, so she sighs and slips through the door silently.

The young man Obi-Wan brought back jumps at the sight of her. He can't be more than twenty, and he has sandy blonde hair and pale blue eyes. . .

With a shock, she realizes that he looks almost exactly like Anakin Skywalker.

And then Obi-Wan is beside her, his arm slipping around her waist. She instinctively tilts her head to lean against his shoulder, but does not speak, waiting for him to open the introductions.

He tells her the young man's name then: Luke Skywalker.

She blinks. So this is the child Obi-Wan watched over for all of these years; this is the one he has worried over; this is the one Master Yoda handed to him as his duty. This is Luke Skywalker.

This is . . . Anakin's son.

She senses Obi-Wan's gentle smile when the realization clicks, and then he introduces her to Luke.

Luke merely gives her a curious expression before returning his attention to the protocol droid at his side, which is sadly mangled. But she can sense his burning curiosity under the surface; obviously, Obi-Wan has succeeded in making many of the locals think him a bizarre – and very much solitary – hermit.

Obi-Wan chuckles softly in her ear when he senses her thoughts, reminding her under his breath that in many ways he _is_ a bizarre hermit.

She rolls her eyes at him and flits back to the kitchen. Luke's curiosity is tempered only by one thing – and that's hunger. She remembers how hungry her fellow male crèche mates where they were growing up, and she knows that Luke is probably just as bad.

Besides, it gives her an excuse to get out of the place and wrap her mind around the realization that Luke is Anakin's son.

Obi-Wan merely frowns before returning his attention to Luke.

Once alone, she leans against the wall. Out of all the Jedi, she never expected Anakin Skywalker to break the Jedi Code so . . . so . . . Well, no Jedi has ever gone that far and still remained a Jedi.

Of course, Anakin Skywalker is no longer a Jedi – not even quite human, actually – but Luke must have been conceived before Order 66, when he still was.

She sighs, and turns her mind over that fact. Actually, it is not as hard as she thought to accept the fact that Anakin fell in love, married, and had a kid. He always was impulsive and compassionate, sometimes even more so than Obi-Wan. Once he let something in his heart and mind, he never let it go.

Obi-Wan is, perhaps, the best and worst example.

Before Order 66, Anakin never stopped protecting him. Now, Vader never stops hunting him.

It worries her, that fact. Not because she knows that if Obi-Wan gets caught so will she, but due to the fact that she knows Vader will torture him until he has nothing left to give, to surrender, to lose.

And, quite unfortunately, she is a very good weapon against Obi-Wan.

She knows that anyone merely has to threaten her seriously, and Obi-Wan will comply. He will protect her to the last drop of his blood, the last breath from his lungs, the last beat of his heart, from anyone and everyone. Especially Vader.

When she returns with food and drinks, Obi-Wan is watching some hologram recording. As she puts the tray down by Luke, who immediately goes for it, she turns her attention to the hologram – and nearly jumps.

The woman in that hologram looks almost _exactly_ like Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo.

Obi-Wan gives her a sad smile as she crosses the room and sits next to him. He pulls her close to his chest, his arms encircling her waist, so that his mouth is near her ear, as she settles against him, still stunned.

He whispers to her that now she knows the truth.

She murmurs her question: Twins?

He nods subtly, so subtly that Luke, who is staring at them now, doesn't notice. No doubt the boy has never thought a crazy old hermit would be one to show so much affection.

She sighs. The rest of the conversation passes quickly, almost too quickly, and ends with Luke agreeing to drive them to _Mos Eisley_ to find passage on a ship to Alderaan with the R2 unit. She knows that Obi-Wan wants Luke to come with them, but the boy is stubborn – he doesn't want change to happen even though he secretly has yearned for it all his life.

Luke is outside loading the droids when Obi-Wan suddenly stumbles, his eyes going wide and his face going blank.

She is by his side immediately, steadying him. He has never done this before, and while he has aged over the years, he has never lost the fluid grace of the Jedi warrior he once was.

The second her hands make contact with his shoulders, he blinks and returns to normal. His reflexes have his arms around her in a flash, hugging her tightly to him and his heartbeat speeds up and his breathing grows ragged with emotion.

It is almost like a good-bye. Too much like a good-bye.

She shifts nervously under his recollecting gaze, as if he is attempting to memorize her every feature so he will never forget. As if . . . As if he doesn't think he will ever see her again.

She questions what is wrong.

He shakes his head slowly, and tells her quite suddenly that she isn't going.

To say she is startled is an understatement. She hasn't left Tatooine – hasn't left his side – in so long that she doesn't really remember life without him, without his steady presence, his gentle mind.

He repeats the statement firmly, catching hold of her shoulders and looking her straight in the eye.

She starts to protest. She doesn't want him to leave; she doesn't want to separate from him.

He shakes his head again, quickly and sternly. He won't let her go.

He leans forward and gently kisses her on the forehead, and then on the lips. She wraps her arms around her neck and kisses him back, suddenly afraid yet unsure why.

He whispers that he loves her, that he will always love her, by her ear.

And then he is gone.

For a long moment, she just stands there, turning the whole thing over in her mind. She is numb, she is deaf, she is mute. Obi-Wan was everything to her.

Wait – was?

What is wrong with her? Why is she using everything in the past tense?

Frantically, she reaches for the bond – and sighs in relief. It is intact. He is alive.

And then, as she crosses to the window and watches the landspeeder cruise away, Elanor wonders what in the name of the Force made Obi-Wan Kenobi make her stay behind.

* * *

**W is for Wishes**

As Luke drives the speeder away, Obi-Wan Kenobi wishes that he didn't have to do this to Elanor.

Although he has always been strong in the Unifying Force, relying more on the future than the present, through his years with her he has learned to live in the moment. He has clung to every precious second of his time with her – holding her, kissing her, loving her – because there was a little voice inside of him that whispered that there would be no happy ending, no fairytale closure for them.

This is for many reasons.

For one, they are both Jedi, bound to the Order they once served and bound to their sense of duty and what must be done.

For another, they are powerless to fight the will of the Force, the path of destiny, the whims of fate. The Force has decreed that it is time for them to separate, and so separate they shall.

And . . . And he is a bit of a coward. He doesn't want her to come, knowing that her heart will be shattered. He also doesn't Vader to realize she is alive and start hunting her as well. He wants her to be safe.

Because that little voice has suddenly grown into the power of a vision he can't fight.

He knows that he will not return to Elanor after this. He knows that he and Vader will meet, somehow, somewhere, and that he will not survive that confrontation. Luke will; Leia will; but he will not. He will die to give them the chance they need to escape.

The vision was brief but potent. It was a rare occurrence, for he hasn't had such a vision in years – not since when he was a Padawan, during his last mission to Naboo. But the clarity and truth of the visions haven't changed.

Even if he did have the will to fight it, he knows it will come true no matter what.

And he'd rather it come true away from her than right in front of her.

In that, he knows he is a coward. He doesn't want to have Elanor see him die. He doesn't want to feel the agony that will shatter her heart; he doesn't want to see the pain that will make her lovely eyes dim and never light up again; he doesn't want to crush her spirit with the lingering image of his death.

He knows that she can't escape it. They are tied together; they are two halves of one soul. She will feel his death. But at least she won't see it.

Because he knows that if she saw it, the raw pain in her heart and spirit might be enough to override her Jedi training – might be enough to provoke her to fly into a rage-filled vengeance like Qui-Gon did . . . and avenge him herself.

But if she does – whether or not she succeeds, and she very well might – she will have taken the ultimate step to the dark side, and then there will be nothing that will be able to save her – except, perhaps, death.

He would already be dead then, but he doesn't her to suffer that fate because of him. She has suffered more than enough because of him, and the Clone Wars, and Order 66.

That is his only comfort.

But it is still not enough comfort.

And that is why, as the speeder cruises farther and farther away and his bond with Elanor progressively shrinks, Obi-Wan Kenobi wishes with all of his heart that he didn't have to do this, to make this choice – and to break her heart.


	24. Chapter 24

**_Chapter Twenty-Four: X_**

**X is for Xeric**

Elanor has become xeric.

It has been one year since she felt the bond shatter and Obi-Wan passed away, and in that time, things have changed – but so subtly she can't really pinpoint them.

But she remembers with perfect clarity the exact moment everything went wrong.

When Obi-Wan left, she remembers that she had trouble falling asleep. Over the years she had spent with him, she had grown used to falling asleep with his arms holding her, his body curled protectively around her, his warm breath ruffling her hair. He had always been there, to reassure her, to soothe her, to be there for her.

But as the nights where he was absent dragged on, sleep become ever more elusive.

Her mind was used to the idea of not falling asleep until he joined her in bed, until she felt the familiar sensation of his arms sliding around her and pulling her against him.

Finally, one night she gave up and headed into the kitchen to find something to drink – preferably something warm and soothing, something with good memories attached.

She settled on hot chocolate.

It was a rare treat, but it was an indulgence Obi-Wan granted from time to time. Oftentimes they'd end up in the bed drinking it together, with him leaning against the backboard of the bed and she leaning against him, relaxed in the warm, content, lazy feeling of being close to him with his arm around her back and his fingers stroking her hair.

They didn't involve themselves in society the way most couples did, like going out to see holovids or eating at fancy restaurants. They both much preferred spending the evening together quietly, talking and joking and laughing before cleaning up and sliding easily into sleep.

The sleep she so desperately craved – but not as much as she craved the return of Obi-Wan.

She was just taking her first sip when the bond snapped.

The cup slid from her suddenly numb fingers and shattered on the floor as the hot liquid started seeping all over the floor.

She didn't notice.

Frantically, she reached out with her mind, seeking anything, something, a hint – a clue – a whisper – _anything_.

But it was too late.

The bond vanished completely as the Force swelled with amazing power – and then went silent, as though nothing had happened.

She was rendered numb, completely numb, by that. She couldn't hear anything but the ringing in her ears; couldn't see anything except the haziness rendered by her tears; couldn't feel anything but the cold floor; couldn't taste anything except the saltiness of her tears; couldn't smell anything except the chilly wind fluttering inside.

She is nothing without him. She has nothing without him.

_Nothing._

For what seemed forever, she was still and she sobbed in the fact that she had lost him – her lover, her soulmate, her other half – the only person who ever managed to become so much of her, who understood her so well, who loved her so completely.

She remembers that moment with vivid clarity. And in that moment she realized just how much he meant to her – and how much she loved him in return.

She has mostly recovered now.

Or rather, she has _adapted_. Adapted to life without him, with only the Force for comfort instead of the tangible, warm, loving presence on the man she loved.

It's not enough, though. It's never been enough.

Even when she was younger, she always knew something was missing – something important, something big, something that would fill the void within her.

She had first thought it had been a yearning to travel, to go new places, to see new things. And she had first thought that, being a Jedi, she could fill that yearning.

But that had not been enough.

It is now, though, that she knows what was missing. She didn't need to wander; her home remained in one place, not among the stars. She didn't need to see new places; on the contrary, she preferred the security of routine, the familiarity of home.

She needed something that could fill her heart and make her feel safe in herself, make her feel assured and protected, make her feel . . . loved.

And she found it in Obi-Wan.

And it was so, so easy to be with him, to fall in love, to be loved.

Even now, she reflects on how easy it was. The Force had some designs behind it, some hand in it, and although sometimes she wonders why the Force chose to bring them together, she never regrets it.

Never for a moment does she regret falling in love.

It goes against her training, against her upbringing, against the rules of the Order she served – but that isn't enough of an obstacle for a thing like love.

Love, especially the one she had, was uncontrollable, unpredictable, and unyielding. It gripped her heart and mind and soul and never let go. It tied her fate with his, and she knows it is where she was always meant to be.

But now, of course, she must live without him.

His death, his absence – it is a pain that she carries with her wherever she goes and whatever she does. But she carries it nonetheless.

Better to live with the pain of his death and the scars of his absence, she thinks, than to live blissfully unaware if she wiped her memory of him completely.

So she has adapted to life without him. Life in this dry, bland, empty desert.

In that, Elanor is now xeric.


	25. Chapter 25

**_Chapter Twenty-Five: Y_**

**Y is for Youth**

Elanor's youth is now long behind her.

It has been three years since Obi-Wan died, and the bond shattered, and her heart crumpled into nothingness.

Or so she thought.

But that all changes when she senses a ship land by her door and the door is flung open to reveal a strange party of four – two droids, a young man, and a young woman. They are as surprised to see her as she is to see them.

Slowly, she rises to her feet, her cloak rippling about her, her hands visible. She is not sure if they mean her harm or not, but if they do, they are in for a surprise. Obi-Wan didn't train her in the Jedi arts for nothing, and each lesson is vivid in her mind, cemented by years and years of practice.

But then she recognizes the young man. He has sandy blonde hair, dusty and harried due to the wind and sand, and pale blue eyes that are starting to show a hint of the power and maturity he is beginning to amass.

It's Luke, Luke Skywalker, the young one Obi-Wan left with almost four years ago.

And the woman – she knows her too. She has long dark brown hair tied up in an elaborate coil around her hair, and dark brown eyes that shine with determination and love.

Leia. Leia Organa, the woman Obi-Wan left to rescue.

Anakin's children.

Luke recognizes her a half second after she recognizes them, and he introduces her to Leia and the droids. Then he asks for her assistance.

After the plan has left his lips, she can only stare at him in disbelief. In this, Luke has shown himself to be his father's son, for never has she heard such an impulsive plan from a Jedi – although, admittedly, Luke is not a full Jedi yet.

However, she knows that her presence will offer a great deal of help to Luke's plan. He doesn't really need her – he needs to prove his own abilities – but her being there will assure a victory if anything goes wrong.

Besides, she has never been one to sit out of the action.

So she agrees to assist as much as possible. She helps Leia and Chewbacca get ready for their roles, and also assists Luke in building his own lightsaber and in further preparing him to use it properly.

He is a natural, but he still needs training. She can see, however, the distinctive traces of the teachings of Yoda and Obi-Wan – as well as traces of Anakin's own style. She is startled to realize just how easily he has built his own, distinctive style that mixes the Ataru of Obi-Wan and Yoda and the Djem So of his own father even after so little formal training, but the style is effective and he wields it well.

After everything is set up and planned, the team leaves, in small groups, two by two and then by one.

And then she waits. And waits. And waits.

Finally – the signal. A surge in the Force that she can sense emanates from Luke, somewhere near the . . . wait, the _Great Pit of Carkoon_? What in blazes are they doing there?

As she springs lightly over the dunes and races across the desert, calling on the Force to speed her pace and soothe her exhaustion, she guesses that Jabba decided not to wait so long to get rid of the group – and has decided that letting a sarlaac eat them is punishment enough.

When she arrives, the fighting has already broken out. Luke is fighting with the guards, along with Lando, Han, and Chewbacca, his lightsaber held aloft. Leia, she senses, in somewhere in the sail barge with Jabba. As she notes it, a gunner on the sail barge unleashes a furious barrage at Luke.

With a sigh, she gathers the Force to her and jumps up onto the sail barge. As she lands, she tosses away her cloak and ignites her own lightsaber, sending the guards into a frenzy. They did not see her coming, and nor did they expect that Luke and the others might have other allies.

She dispatches the men facing her easily. A kick to the sternum, a slash to the arm, a slice through a blaster – easy, fluid, flowing movements that define her style of fighting more than anything else.

Obi-Wan trained her too well.

She immerses herself in the Force, letting it guide her blade, her arm, her body. The world sharpens into a crystal clear simulation, even with her eyes closed, and she can see everything – her enemies' fear and awe and desperation; their next move; their fatal weak point.

Everything.

Once, when she fought against these types of men, she lost. She lost bitterly to them and got herself captured and sold as a slave. Her abilities weren't enough that time.

But things have changed.

Now, she is fully trained, at the height of her power – and so fighting these men is as easy as breathing.

She knows what her enemies see in her as she leaps down – a terrifying, awe-inspiring sight of deadly grace and potent skill, her lightaber a swirling blur in her hand that brings death and destruction wherever it goes.

The Force surges, and Luke leaps up to join her on the sail barge. She shares a single look with him, and he nods. She whirls around, dispatching her nearest opponent, and then races below the decks as Luke takes over the main fighting up top.

She finds Leia easily enough. Leia is just leaping down from the deceased Hutt, her chain clinking and her slave outfit fluttering with her movements.

She wrinkles her nose. The outfit is ridiculous.

Striding forward, she slashes casually at the chain with a flick of her hand before gesturing for Leia to hurry out to Luke. As Leia darts out and the droids follow a bit more slowly, she reaches out with the Force to make sure that their path is clear – and that there are no opponents lying in the shadow to ambush them here.

When her check is done, she runs back to the top deck to find Leia arranging the gun to point at the deck.

She nods at that; it's a good strategy to follow, even if they hadn't planned it earlier. They can't afford to leave the barge in one piece now that they've had to fight.

As she thinks that, her attention is suddenly distracted when Luke cries out in pain as a shot connects with his hand.

With a snarl, she springs forward and disposes of his attacker.

Between the two of them, the rest of Jabba's men are quickly finished off. They are disorganized and panicked, and therefore do not present much of a threat to two Jedi, especially not when they are both fresh and prepared.

When it is over, she waits until Luke and Leia have swung safely off before she accesses the Force and throws herself into the air, clearing the distance between the barge and the others easily with a single bound.

As they take off and the sail barge begins to explode behind them, she deactivates her lightsaber, leans against the railing, and sighs, shaking her head. She almost can't believe that this crazy plan actually _worked_ and that they are all pretty much injured and together once again.

She watches in silence as Luke clips his lightsaber back on his belt and clasps Han's arm with camaraderie as Leia hugs Han and kisses him.

Luke, she reflects, has inherited as much of his father's sheer dumb luck as his impulsiveness, skill, and power.

Not an hour later, the whole gang is lifting off again – Leia, Han, Lando, Chewbacca, and C-3PO to rendezvous with the Rebel Alliance and Luke and R2-D2 to meet with Master Yoda one final time on Dagobah.

As Elanor watches them fly off, she hopes with all of her heart that this is the last scrap of trouble she ever sees them in, because her youth is behind her, as today demonstrated – and she's just getting too old for this nonsense.


	26. Chapter 26

**_Chapter Twenty-Six: Z_**

**Z is for Zeal**

Elanor has always pursued things with a one-minded zeal.

First, when she was a youngling, she pursued a Master. She needed one, in order to become a Jedi Knight, and she didn't want to end up in the AgriCorps, the place youngling who weren't chosen were sent.

But who would want that fate? To get such a close taste of what it meant to be a Jedi; to someone special, someone unique, someone powerful; to live and breathe the Jedi way of live for thirteen years – and then find out you weren't worth it? That no one wanted you?

So she trained and practiced and studied – did everything, anything she could do to make herself a suitable candidate for a Jedi.

And, to her relief, she succeeded in that goal, because she was chosen.

Secondly, when she was a Padawan, she pursued Knighthood. She needed to be a good Padawan, one who could be part of the Order she was born to serve, one who exemplify what it meant to be a Jedi, one who could follow the mandate of the Order that had been laid out over thousands of generations of the Order's existence.

She didn't want to fail. She _couldn't_ fail. Failure was not an option.

Unless, of course, the Force decided that it was her destiny to fail – and ended her life during the Clone Wars.

But, miraculously, she survived when her Master did not. She thought it meant that she was meant to become a Jedi, for why else would she live?

Her goal was sidetracked a little – well, perhaps more than a little – by her capture and subsequent torture. But she survived. And she found a new Master, a better one.

And one who would, in time, come to mean more to her than even Knighthood.

But she still went after her goal, and she still succeeded, because she did pass the Trials.

And then, of course, she found out another reason why she survived the Jedi Purge, one that had nothing to do with her being a Jedi or not – although that certainly helped, of course.

It was because of Obi-Wan.

He needed her, perhaps, as much as she needed him – to restore his confidence, to heal his soul, to remind him of who he was. And, along the way, find another reason to live.

Her.

She became his reason to live, and he became hers.

And she still loves him, for she could never stop. Not even now, when over four years have passed since their separation and his death, can she stop loving him. Their love will never falter, and she will never let it go.

So therein lies her next and last goal – to become one with the Force.

She remembers how startled she was when, one night, the Force surged softly and a gentle breeze brushed over her hair – except it wasn't a breeze. She remembers how she shot up, tears overflowing her eyes, as she drank in the sight before her.

He wasn't the same as she remembered.

No, he was much better.

He looked as he had before Order 66 – handsome, young, powerful, confident, relaxed – everything she had ever loved in him.

She couldn't touch him, of course, for his form wasn't truly corporeal, but seeing as just seeing him was as good as it was going to get – well, that was enough for her.

But he could touch her . . . well, sort of. It didn't feel like skin against her cheek, but rather like the cool mist of morning, gathered into roughly the shape of a human hand.

When she finally calmed down, he had "sat" beside her as he used to when he was alive and they chatted on the bed. And in a soft whisper, he had told her everything.

He had revealed the truth about Anakin and Padmé, and their children, and the parts he had played not only in Anakin's transformation to Darth Vader but also in the protection of Anakin's children.

He told her what had happened when he had died – how he had ended up on the Death Star, how he had seen the remnants of a destroyed Alderaan, how he had died so that Luke and Leia and the others could escape.

And, lastly, he confided in her the secret, the key, the ultimate power. The secret that allowed him to manifest like this to her, that allowed him to keep a hold on his world even after his death, that allowed him to continue guiding Luke.

Full of wonder, she had listened to him. She had never suspected that his long meditations were anything but him re-attaining his inner peace – the peace destroyed by years of war and bloodshed.

But apparently, they had had a purpose. And a rather useful one, too.

When he had told her that Qui-Gon had discovered the secret, she had pulled away in shock. Every Padawan knew the story about Qui-Gon Jinn – and his death on Naboo at the hands of the Sith Lord Obi-Wan had then killed.

But that had been so _long_ ago . . . almost fourteen years before she had met Obi-Wan, actually.

Apparently, the passing of years meant nothing to those who had become one with the Force – as her Obi-Wan had.

When he offered to teach her the secret in return, she knew he was doing as much for himself as he was for her. While on one hand, he wanted her to learn merely for the sake of her learning it as a fellow member of the Jedi Order, on the other he wanted her to learn so that when she died, he would not lose her. If she learned the secret and used it, she would join the Force but retain her conscious self – meaning that one day they could be reunited.

And for him as much for herself, she had accepted.

So now, as her breath slides past her lips in a slow exhale, she reaches for the Force as her spirit slips away. There is nothing left for her to live for now; the purpose for her existence is gone. Luke will resurrect the Order and Leia will revive the Republic on their own. They don't need her help.

Then everything fades into darkness.

She is floating now . . . floating in a sea of endless darkness with a sky of infinite emptiness overhead. She is nothing, and she is everything.

And then light – sweet, glorious, brilliant light.

She rises on the wind, weightless as vapor, with light shining all about her and stars twinkling and the endless emptiness parting to reveal . . . a glowing, silver place.

This is her home.

And this is where her family is.

One by one, figures shimmer into existence beside her. They are dressed as she is, only instead of being blue, now they look as real as they did in life.

She runs to her old Master first and hugs him. He pats her shoulder gently and looks at her, registering how she has changed. His words are soft as he congratulates her for moving on, for surviving, for becoming a full Knight.

Then she bows to Master Yoda, whose words are cryptic as always.

Then she runs into all of her crèche friends. Some were never chosen as Padawans. Others died in the Clone Wars. But she is glad to see all of them, and surprised to realize that very few are Knights like her.

And then the Force ripples again as someone else appears.

She turns – and then the whole world crystallizes around one person, the one who has appeared.

Without thinking, without planning, without hesitating, she whirls around and hurls herself into the loving embrace of Obi-Wan.

Now that they are both part of the Force, their forms are somewhat corporeal – and so she can touch him this time.

And touch him she does.

Tears fall unhindered from her eyes as she buries her face in the soft weave of his tunic, clutching desperately at him. After all her dreams of what it would be like to see him again, it seems all she can do is sob and tremble and cling to him.

He bears it patiently, but she can sense the desperation and joy and relief that he feels as well that they are back together. His arms are just a little tighter around her than she remembers from before; his breathing only just starting to relax; the words he is murmuring just a tad too fast to be just there for her comfort.

When her hold finally starts to loosen, she pulls back just in time for him to brush a soft kiss across her lips.

She sighs and kisses him back. It's been only four years, but it seems like _forever_ to her. . .

He tightens his arms as he deepens the kiss, and she snakes her arms around his neck as she presses herself against him. His kiss, the feel of his lips on hers, the warmth of his body radiating around her – they are all so familiar and so addicting. . .

In other words, she doesn't want to let go of him. Not now, and not ever.

And anyways – _this_ is their happily ever after. And they don't ever have to leave it now.

Elanor has always pursued her goals with a one-minded zeal, but now she realizes that it is her love for Obi-Wan Kenobi is the real reason she succeeded in this goal. Compassion and love are the real secrets to this, and she has them.

Because Elanor loves Obi-Wan Kenobi and he loves her, and now they will never be parted from one another.

**_The End_**

* * *

So this is the end of A Love Alphabet. Thanks to everyone who has stayed with me this far and reviewed! And once again, this story was based off of Crazytenor42's story Kenobi's Beloved Angel, so if you liked this you should go check that one out (and bombard her with reviews).


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